


Entomophobia

by Tadpole4176



Series: The Very Un-Grand Tour [2]
Category: The Grand Tour (TV) RPF, Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Action/Adventure, Fluff, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:02:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26045455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tadpole4176/pseuds/Tadpole4176
Summary: Entomophobia: An abnormal and persistent fear of insects. Sufferers experience anxiety even though they realise that most insects pose no threat.This is the sequel to The Little Italian Adventure, and if you’ve read that I think it’s clear where anyone might be a bit worried about insect life, especially Richard.After the success of their little adventure around their cabin in the Italian Alps, Andy agrees to clear the cabin for spiders before the boys take off on their next shrunken adventure. This time, they’ve been told to bring their own accommodation.
Series: The Very Un-Grand Tour [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1890685
Comments: 13
Kudos: 4





	1. The Next Adventure

“What does it say, Jez?” asked Richard, warily, stepping over yet another tube of some sort going to what he could only describe as a spider vacuum cleaner, as a strange man in full hazmat suit came to clear the cabin of spiders. At least, that’s what Richard thought he’d said. Strange Italian men weren’t easy to interpret through full protective face masks, but he certainly looked the part and he appreciated the enthusiasm. Noticing his distraction, Richard moved his attention back to the text message, looking up at his friend, who was just settling his glasses onto his nose.

“It’s from Mr Wilman,” said Jeremy, ignoring the impatient – we knew that – glares from the others. The noise from the spider vacuum ramped up along with their protests.

“You will be setting off on your next trip imminently. Each of you must purchase a toy vehicle on the internet for no more than 10€. Since this time no accommodation will be provided, it would be best if you got something with somewhere to sleep. If you purchase something inappropriate, the backup car can be found on this link.”

Jeremy clicked on it immediately, his stomach sinking. “It’s a bus full of talking animals,” he announced, closing the page again quickly. “So no one make any mistakes.”

James turned to Richard. “What’s Paw Patrol?”

“Painful kids TV show,” grinned Richard. “Lots of talking dogs.”

“Good incentive,” nodded James. “I assume that the fact that we’ve got to purchase vehicles online means the internet’s working now?”

“Yes, yes, that’s all fixed now,” Jeremy waved them off. “He said that was back hours ago!”

“You utter arse!” exclaimed James, rushing upstairs to retrieve his laptop. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Jeremy shrugged, looking marginally innocent at James’ retreating back. “I can’t be expected to do everything,” he said, mostly to Richard, who was looking at him sceptically.

“Or anything much?” Richard suggested, jumping as the spider man moved again and nearly tripped him with the tube he’d just stepped over.

Jeremy grinned, completely unrepentant.

……………………………………………………………………………

Jeremy was first out of bed the next morning. He stumbled downstairs, still primarily asleep, but alert enough to notice that there were no longer any pipes running through the cabin for him to fall over. He wandered over to the coffee machine, almost on automatic pilot, and only as he was waiting for the water did he realise that three packages rested on the table.

Three packages that hadn’t been there the previous night.

He knew what these were. Taking a glance at the labels on each of them, he reached for the one addressed to him before wandering back into the kitchen area to retrieve some scissors. For a few moments the wrapping resisted even the scissors, causing Jeremy to curse loudly enough to result in movement from upstairs, but for now he was still alone, and he could take a moment to check out his vehicle honestly.

The - extensive – packaging lay ignored on the ground at Jeremy’s feet, as he carried out a careful inspection of his new (tiny) Tonka tipper truck. Firstly, he confirmed that the doors did open, and whilst it was difficult to confirm whether or not it was large enough for him to fit, it did at least look reasonably roomy in the cab. And suitably indestructible. The tipper function did also work, which might later prove to be a problem for sleeping in it, but given that they were going to be indoors, he wasn’t too worried about it being open air.

“What is that?” exclaimed a voice from his left – Richard. “It said you needed somewhere to sleep!”

“This is a fantastic plan!” protested Jeremy, waving his tipper truck in the air. “Roomy, robust – I just need to find something to use as a mattress.”

“What about spider attacks?” asked Richard. “No protection from that.”

“No more spiders,” grinned Jeremy, pulling out his smug face. “What have you got?”

“Something ridiculous, no doubt,” put in James as he descended the stairs to join them. “Hand over the scissors, Jezza, we’ve got to inspect our purchases.”

As James took the scissors, Richard attacked his package with his teeth, tearing away at the tape in a flurry of activity until there was a small pile of scrap cardboard and plastic on the table, and he stood triumphantly holding a tiny VW camper van – complete with a surfboard on top and flowers painted down the side.

“Wow, Hammond,” laughed James. “You planning on surfing across the sink?”

“I’m ready for all eventualities,” protested Richard. “Though if there’s water involved, I would point out that these camper vans convert well into canal boats.”

“Well?” put in Jeremy.

“Ish,” grinned Richard. “I was mostly going for an actual comfortable bed,” he admitted.

“I think you might have to add a little padding,” suggested Jeremy, grabbing the van from Richard and holding it up to his glasses. “This is just moulded plastic.”

“A few modifications,” said Richard. “No problem.” As James burst out laughing.

“What have you got then, James?” Richard turned to his chortling friend, taking the offensive.

“I have…” James paused, still hiding his vehicle behind the immaculately removed wrapping. “… an ambulance.”

He was met with a moment of silence.

“Umm, James,” said Richard, finally. “Why?”

“Good for sleeping, plenty of room for equipment, reasonably speedy. Need I go on?”

“Reasonably speedy?” objected Jeremy. “They were so slow we tried to replace them!”

“And,” added James, ignoring him. “Working sirens.” He pressed on the roof to activate them.

“Yeah, that’s going to be really handy when you’re sat in the driver’s seat in all the traffic we have here!” commented Richard.

“It’s for scaring spiders,” grinned James. “Obviously, I’ll need to rig up a button extension before we head off.”

“Are spiders scared of sirens?” asked Richard.

“Well, they like the dark,” shrugged James.

“Gentlemen,” interrupted Jeremy. “I think we have some work to do.”

“We do,” agreed Richard. “You got the music?”

Jeremy nodded. “Of course,” he replied, and reached for his phone.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………

By the end of the day, all three of the vehicles had been touched up, primarily with the use of an old fleece jacket Jeremy had discovered and the atypical use of a washing up sponge. The cars stood proudly on the table, whilst the three men lay collapsed on the comfortable chairs in the lounge, comparing various injuries – largely needle stab wounds – from their efforts.

“I really thought doing up a toy ambulance would be easier,” groaned James.

“Too fiddly,” agreed Jeremy. “Perfect for Hamster, but rubbish for us.”

Richard, beside him on the sofa, took a lethargic swipe at him, but otherwise ignored the comment. “Did you manage to create any tools, James?” he asked.

“A couple of simple ones,” said James. “I found the smallest screwdriver known to man, and I’ve created a rudimentary jack out of a small screw.”

Jeremy yawned. “Fascinating as this is,” he put in, “I think we should probably get a good night’s rest before whatever is going to happen tomorrow.”

“Good point,” agreed James, pulling himself out of his chair with a groan.

“I’m going to sleep with my shoes on,” added Jeremy.

“A few packets of sweets in your pocket?” asked James.

“Yeah,” grinned Jeremy, patting his pocket to reveal a rustling noise.

“You’re going to flatten those in your sleep,” laughed Richard, climbing to his feet to join James.

“They’ll be perfectly edible,” said Jeremy, allowing Richard and James to pull him up and then staggering up the stairs after them.

Ready for anything.

More or less.

…………………………………………………………………………

Richard was the first to awake, disturbed by the swaying of the ground and something bumping against him heavily.

“Jez?” he grumbled, attempting to push the larger man off him. “Why are you practically lying on me?”

“Hmm?”

“Urrrgghh,” added James, from Richard’s other side, sitting up as Richard continued to extract himself from beneath the oaf.

“This is not what I was expecting,” said James, reaching over to give Jeremy a good shove and free Richard.

Richard sat up beside him, looking round in the semi-darkness. “No, me neither.”

“I think we’re in a bag,” said James.

“What?!” Jeremy, abruptly, sat up alongside them too, his head taking a glancing blow off the side of the bag – probably – as he did so. “A bag?”

“But Andy cleared the cabin of spiders,” muttered Richard.

“Of course!” shouted Jeremy. “I knew he gave in to clearing the spiders too easily. He cleared them because he’s set up another place for us to explore.”

“Full of spiders?” asked Richard.

“Naturally,” shrugged James. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, as long as you do your best not to tempt them.”

Richard glared at him.

“We’ll get you a Spiderman suit, they never go after him,” suggested Jeremy, sounding anything but helpful.

“As useful as all this speculation is,” put in James. “How about we work out where we actually are?”

Jeremy tapped on a wall, which moved very slightly. “I think rucksack,” he said. “A pretty robust one with a hard floor.” He stamped his feet, giving off a faint echoes. “So, to get a look outside, we need to get up there.” He pointed.

James and Richard’s eyes followed the direction Jeremy indicated, until it disappeared into blackness.

“Hang on,” said Richard. “I put a torch in my pocket.”

“Nice,” nodded James. “All my useful stuff is in my van, which I notice isn’t here.”

“It’s probably in a side pocket or something,” said Richard. “Don’t want the cars falling on us while we’re in here.”

“There’s a nice thought,” agreed James.

Jeremy fell back dramatically. “Death by toy car!”

“It would make for an interesting obituary,” chuckled James.

“Yeah, I’m not quite ready for that – old man!” protested Richard, digging in his pocket for the torch.

Jeremy pointed again, somewhat helpfully, apparently implying that he thought Richard would have forgotten which way was up.

There, illuminated by the puny light of Richard’s shrunken torch, was a massive zip, closed over the top of the bag. “We just have to get up there then,” said Richard.

“How hard can it be?” grinned Jeremy.

“Don’t say that!” protested Richard. “It’s miles above our heads!”

“Well yes, but it’s only a rucksack. Have you got anything pointy?”

“I’m afraid to ask,” said James. “How does something pointy help?”

“We can cut a ladder into the side of the rucksack,” said Jeremy. “Pocket knife?”

“And when the whole side of the rucksack comes off and we fall out somewhere we’re not supposed to?” asked James.

“Every man for himself, obviously,” replied Jeremy.

James sighed.

“Hold on a sec,” called Richard. “There’s something down here with us.”

“Food?” asked Jeremy.

“Well, yes. And drink, utensils, rope, a Lego stepladder… Help me extend it?”

Jeremy giggled. “Never needed help extending a Lego stepladder before!”

“It’s big just at the minute,” protested Richard.

“Do we have any other goodies in here?” asked James, peering through the gloom and finding a chest, reminiscent of the chest when they’d gone to Bolivia. He turned to see Richard and Jeremy wrestling with the bright yellow stepladder. “Oh for heaven’s sake. Take one end each and pull!” He paused to yell at them, before turning back to the chest.

“Sorry James,” giggled Richard, moving to the opposite end of the ladder. “Can you hold the bottom if we climb up?”

“Yeah, sure,” said James, his head mostly submerged in the chest. “You want some thread for when you get up there?”

“Thread?” asked Richard, puzzled.

“The miniature equivalent to rope,” explained James, more or less patiently. “There’s some in the box.”

Richard still looked puzzled.

“As a precaution against unexpectedly falling off things.”

“Ah, yeah, that’s a good plan,” agreed Richard, helping Jeremy to position the newly extended ladder against the side of the rucksack.

“Here, Jez,” James handed Jeremy a bundled up section of thread, wound so that it was easy for Jeremy to hang over his shoulder.

Richard, not even waiting for James to get a proper grip on the bottom of the ladder, was already several rungs into his trip upwards, grinning enthusiastically, and obviously excited at the prospect of seeing the outside world. “Come on, Jez. We could be anywhere!”

“Maybe he should wait until you’re off the top,” suggested James.

“Oh yeah,” nodded Richard, scrambling upwards more quickly now that James had a firmer grip on the ladder.

“That looks like too much effort,” muttered Jeremy from beside James, watching Richard as he reached the top.

“Well, I’m not going, and I don’t think you want your only information to come from the Hamster,” observed James.

“But effort,” grumbled Jeremy, half-heartedly.

“Go on, oaf,” grinned James. “I’ve got the bottom.”

“Wow!” exclaimed Richard. “I’m so high up!”

“Hold your horses, Hamster!” yelled James, startling the slowly climbing Jeremy slightly. “Jez is on his way.”

James shook his head, watching them ascend, Richard now no more than a pair of legs, sticking out of this side of the rucksack’s zip. Belatedly, given that he was now obliged to hold the ladder, he wondered if the chest contained any kind of air mattress or other soft landing in case of incident. Somehow, with those two up there, some sort of incident seemed very likely.

…………………………………………………………………

Richard squeezed through the tiny gap next to the closed zip, and peered out of the bag. Compared to the near darkness of the inside of the bag, the outside world seemed absurdly bright, sun and light coloured walls everywhere. He squinted for a moment as his eyes adjusted, finally catching sight of a massive jet through one of the windows. “We’re at an airport,” he realised.

Shuffling backwards out of the hole, he found himself suddenly confronted by a panting Jeremy. “Oof,” he said. “Sorry, Jez.”

“Look interesting?” his friend asked.

“Yeah, airport. We should see if we can work out where we’re going.”

“We might need to move the zip a bit further up if I’m climbing out too,” observed Jeremy, reaching for the zipper.

“OK,” agreed Richard, placing his hands alongside Jeremy’s and counting down. “One, two, three, push!”

“Push!” cried Jeremy.

Abruptly, the zipper moved several notches, flooding the bag with additional light, and causing Jeremy to wobble alarmingly on the ladder.

“Jez!” called James.

Richard grabbed him, optimistically holding on to both him and the bag as the wobbling died down.

Jeremy’s panting increased again, and for several minutes all three of them simply held their positions. Then, finally, he was ready to go.

“Ready?” asked Jeremy, not needing to wait for an answer as Richard immediately pulled himself through the widened hole and onto the outside of the zip, using the teeth as a kind of ladder. Following him, Jeremy also hauled himself out, pausing only to wave to James below. “Back soon!” he called.

Sticking his head outside, Jeremy turned to Richard. “Here, tie yourself onto this, so you can’t get knocked off.” He held out the thread, waiting for Richard to tie himself to one end, then something in the centre to the zipper itself, before allowing the smaller man to tie the other end round his waist.

“Done,” grinned Richard. “Probably best not to have you doing anything complicated with knots, I’m thinking,” he added cheekily.

“It does rely on a bit of manual dexterity,” agreed Jeremy. “Right, I think we’re ready, even by Slow’s, terrified of heights, standards.”

“Yeah,” Richard turned back to the zip, and climbing up it to the very top of the rucksack. “Definitely an airport,” he called back to Jeremy.

“More importantly,” added Jeremy. “Is that the Stig carrying the rucksack?”

“Oh yeah!” laughed Richard. “I hadn’t even noticed that! What’s he doing here?”

“Observant,” laughed Jeremy. “Oh, wait – is he heading for security? We need to get James.”

“What? Why?!” spluttered Richard. “He doesn’t like heights!”

“And what happens to all rucksacks on the way through airport security?” prompted Jeremy.

“Search?” said Richard, looking slightly worried.

“Forget search,” said Jeremy. “What about the X-ray?”

“Ooooh,” groaned Richard, grabbing his crotch. “Not good for the wedding tackle.”

“I don’t want to have an exciting dayglow man sausage,” declared Jeremy.

“I don’t suppose James does either!” agreed Richard, turning to bounce back down the zip in an alarming manner in order to summon James.

“James! James! You’ve got to come up here!”

“I’ve told you already, Hammond, I don’t like heights. I’m quite happy waiting here, thank you,” came back James’ reply almost immediately.

“It’s for the sake of your bits,” insisted Richard.

“My bits?” James sounded doubtful.

“Down there, James. He’s headed for the X-Ray machine! Hurry!”

James paused, presumably thinking it over and analysing all the possible outcomes at great length.

“Hurry!” repeated Richard.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Hammond. There’s nothing rushed about a queue in airport security.”

Richard sighed, settling down to wait on one of the zip’s teeth.

“What’s taking him?” yelled Jeremy.

“He’s probably kissing his ass goodbye,” suggested Richard. “And assuring me that no one is fast through airport security.”

“Don’t tell Stig that! He doesn’t do slow,” laughed Jeremy, “his brain’ll melt.”

Richard chuckled along with him. “Come on James, Stig’s brain’s melting.”

A string of curses sounded below him, but then James shouted up, “Fine, hold the ladder steady for me,” and finally began his ascent.

As patiently as he could manage, Richard sat at the top of the ladder, holding it as James slowly made his way up. Stig was now engaged in making his way through security, briskly marching to the end of the shortest queue and – by the looks of it – trying to intimidate the people ahead of him into letting him go first. It wasn’t something that had ever worked for Richard, but somehow the security queue did seem to be particularly short. By the time James was at the top of the ladder, there were only two people ahead of Stig in the queue.

“Quick!” said Richard, reaching down for his friend and entirely failing to haul him through the hole onto the outside of the rucksack, then untying his thread and fastening it around James’ waist as he emerged. “We’ll have to remove this in a minute, but it should help for now,” he explained, nodding seriously at James’ grin that looked more like a grimace.

“Thanks,” said James, shakily following Richard to where Jeremy sat at the top of the rucksack.

“Stay with Jez,” said Richard, when James reached the top, quickly scurrying back down the zip, then reappearing a few minutes later with a big grin and the entire length of thread.

“Am I now tied to nothing at all?” protested James.

“I’m holding it,” said Richard.

“Yes, I’m sure that would help dramatically if I fell off,” muttered James.

“Well, you’d have company,” offered Jeremy.

“Shut up!” said Richard. “We need this to get across.”

“What do you mean?”

“Onto Stig? Otherwise we’ll get left behind, and I don’t think I want to find out what lives in an airport.” Richard looked concerned. “Look, it’s perfectly safe, I’ve been thinking about this.”

“We’re doomed,” said Jeremy, standing up and pulling James after him, keeping a hand on his shoulder even as he stood up. “How exactly are we going to form a bridge across to there in two minutes flat?”

“I think we’ve just got to jump,” muttered Richard. “If we hang onto the collar, we should be OK.”

James began to hyperventilate. “I can’t do that,” he said, quietly.

“OK,” said Jeremy, retying the thread around his waist. “For my man vegetables!” And, abruptly, he leapt for Stig’s collar.

Richard, realising what Jeremy was about to do, grabbed James tightly, desperately praying that Jeremy didn’t fall. Sure, he was roped to James, but with James already wobbly and definitely lighter than Jeremy, that didn’t seem like much in the way of insurance.

“I am a jumping God!” yelled Jeremy.

“He’s made it,” whispered Richard, trying to persuade James to prise his eyes open. “You should probably go next,” he added.

Sure enough, Jeremy had untied himself, and now sat comfortably against Stig’s neck as Richard reeled the thread in and tied it round himself.

“That’s about as reassuring as me catching Jezza,” observed James, watching him fasten it.

“I’ll hold on to something,” said Richard, leaning over and wrapping both arms round the bag’s top handle.

“Hmm,” said James.

“Jump! He’s next in line! Jump!” screamed Jeremy from the Stig.

“Give me a sec woman, I’m working up to it,” grumbled James, taking several deep breaths, and rocking on the edge in a couple of major false starts before he finally asserted his authority over his legs and leapt.

Jeremy caught him, grabbing him firmly with one hand and hauling him into Stig’s collar with him, where James could finally stop looking down. As he jumped, Stig reached the front of the queue, staring silently at the security worker who was asking for his bag and waving a tray at him.

“Hamster!” yelled Jeremy, certain they were running out of time.

“If he gets strip searched for not complying, I’m going to say that the bag was a better choice,” said James.

“Strip search the Stig? They’ll have to bleach their eyeballs afterwards,” replied Jeremy, chuckling at the image. “Hamster!” he yelled again, beckoning their usually rash little friend forwards.

“Ready?” yelled back Richard, just as Stig finally acquiesced and removed the bag from his shoulder abruptly and grumpily. Clearly he was not pleased. With the bag in the tray, Stig then bent down to remove his shoes – if anything – even more crossly. Richard, instead of jumping, found himself flung away from the bag and towards James, who was still tied to the other end of the thread.

“Arrrrgghh,” yelled Richard, hurtling downwards towards James and Jeremy on a rapidly lowering Stig platform, his speed increasing as he fell, nothing James or Jeremy could do to stop him.

Finally, Stig stopped and Richard hit his back with a grunt. Stig, obviously noticing the impact, reached round his back to swipe Richard away, his massive gloved hand rubbing against the back of his suit. Quickly, Jeremy and James yanked the thread, pulling Richard away from the Stig’s hand and to the safety of the collar.

“You OK, Hamster?” asked Jeremy, as he was at last able to reach his friend and drag him the last few millimetres.

“Give me a minute,” groaned Richard. “I hurt so much I can’t tell which bits hurt.”

Jeremy snorted.

“I think you’ll find, you left that jump a bit late,” commented James.

“What! I was waiting for you! How can you…” Richard stopped, noting James’ expression. “You knew that.”

“You’re fine,” said James, smirking at him.

“I never want to do that again,” said Richard, collapsing back into the safe place at Stig’s collar – between his racing suit and his undershirt where he wouldn’t notice them. “My whole life flashed before my eyes.”

“You realise you only fell half a metre or so?” pointed out James.

“I’m small, that was like falling off a building! I definitely had time to review my lifestyle.”

Jeremy started giggling again. “You’re admitting to being small then?”

“You’re small too,” protested Richard.

“Sshhh,” whispered James. “Stig’s going through the arch.”

“Isn’t his helmet metal?” asked Jeremy.

“I don’t think he’s going to agree to remove it,” added Richard.

“SSssshhh,” repeated James.

Peering round the side of Stig’s neck, very cautiously, Richard could just make out the security man approaching Stig, clearly not impressed with the helmet. Then, all of a sudden, the man simply backed off, waving him through.

“Did you see that?” he whispered back to the others. “The guy just decided to ignore him!”

“Some say,” began Jeremy, “that he has mysterious telepathic powers, and that security guards throughout the nation will forget he ever existed.”

Richard giggled. “Must be true,” he choked.


	2. In Flight Entertainment

Jeremy watched intently as the Stig sauntered down the tunnel into the plane, then found his seat efficiently, ignoring the smiling air stewardess as she directed him and silently manoeuvring himself past several families with staring children. When he arrived at his seat, Stig reached back for the rucksack, quickly and roughly shoving it into the overhead locker even as Jeremy ducked down so that he wasn’t noticed, with no obvious care for its fragile cargo. But then, Stig wasn’t part of The Grand Tour, Jeremy had to remind himself, it was entirely possible that he didn’t know anything about what was going on. Or didn’t care, of course.

As the bag settled, on its side, Jeremy strolled along the ladder, greeting the others at what should have been the bottom of the bag.

“We’re in,” he announced.

“Really?” replied James, his eyebrow raising sceptically.

“Yes, thanks James, who was it who sent me to be look out in the first place?” protested Jeremy.

“I was thinking you’d look out for searches, incoming problems with the rozzers, Mr Wilman, annoying teenagers stealing the bag, not us getting into an aeroplane with a big obvious thunk exactly like we’d expected.”

“You really had all that stuff you thought might happen?” asked Richard. “I was mostly wondering if we’d get to steal any of Stig’s food. And if we’d want to, since it’s airline food.”

“Either way,” put in Jeremy, “I think we can be reasonably confident we’re going back to the UK, so we’ve got a couple of hours on the plane.”

“That’s ages,” said Richard.

“Time for a nap?” suggested James.

“That’s what you normally do on a plane,” said Jeremy. “This time you’ve got room to move about.”

“OOoh, there are possibilities,” grinned Richard, turning to look up at Jeremy.

“Children,” grumbled James, the amusement in his tone giving him away.

“You know, I’m thinking the real challenge is getting hold of beer,” suggested Richard.

“A whole can, or siphoning someone’s off?” asked Jeremy.

“Is there anyone here we don’t like?” mused Richard. “I’m not sure I want to steal Stig’s beer.”

“Does Stig drink beer then?” asked James. “I didn’t think he was able to let someone else drive.”

“He’s not flying the plane,” shrugged Jeremy.

“Yet,” added James.

“Maybe we should just go to the trolley,” suggested Richard, impatiently getting them back on track.

“I have a plan,” announced Jeremy, ignoring the looks of pain that passed across both of his mates’ faces.

“I’m afraid to ask,” said Richard, clearly asking anyway.

“We puncture a can, collect the run off, come back here before anyone’s the wiser,” declared Jeremy.

“Collect in…?” said James.

“The water bottles?” suggested Richard. “We could all top up on water first.”

“Like pre-emptive hangover cure?” asked Jeremy.

“Pretty much!”

…………………………………………………………………………………

“Why is it always me that’s dangling from the end of a rope?” asked Richard, wriggling in the makeshift harness, trying to get more comfortable. “I’ve fallen off enough things already.”

“James is afraid of heights,” pointed out Jeremy. “And I’m too big, your puny arms could never lift me back up.”

Richard shrugged. “I’m not seeing the problem.”

“You wouldn’t be able to lift the beer back either,” pointed out Jeremy.

“Oh yeah.”

“Actually,” said James. “This is thread.”

“That’s not helping,” frowned Richard, peering over the edge through the gap in the overhead locker.

“Come on, she’s getting close,” said Jeremy.

“OK,” Richard held his weapon – a sewing needle – at the ready, and jumped. The thread unspooled from its reel rapidly, giving Jeremy and James a fight on their hands to slow it down enough to avoid splatting Richard against the floor, or the stewardess’ well-polished shoe.

Down below, Richard swung towards the trolley, bouncing roughly off the stewardess’ stiff uniform before reaching the stacked cans of beer. Glancing back, to check that the woman hadn’t noticed him, he held his needle high and stabbed the nearest can.

Immediately, a jet of beer smacked him in the face, shooting him off the trolley again and leaving him to fumble to keep hold of the water bottle. The needle, meanwhile, fell to the ground, so he’d get no second chances. He held the bottle up, beginning to collect as the jet calmed down a little and he swung back closer in to the trolley, completely drenched in beer. Still no one seemed to notice.

The first bottle full, Richard reached for the second, filling it quickly and going for the third. As the remaining dribble slowly filled the last water bottle, Richard turned to realise that a baby was watching him intently, gesturing at him and making babbling noises to tell his oblivious parents about what he’d seen.

Smiling, despite the panic he felt, Richard waved, finding himself responding as the baby giggled. Then, finally, Jeremy and James began to haul him back upwards to the locker, the baby’s eyes firmly fixed on him as he went.

“Don’t look,” whispered Richard to the baby’s mother. And the stewardess.

And The Stig – who knew how he’d react to this.

“Don’t look.”

Then, at last, he was through the gap in the door and back with his miniature mates.

“Nice job,” greeted James, as Richard handed him the first of the water bottles.

“Excellent,” agreed Jeremy, accepting his own. “Now, we can relax and enjoy the journey.”

Lining up outside the rucksack, confident that they’d hear if the seatbelt signs binged, the three of them each took a swig of their pilfered beer, sighing happily.

“This is the life,” said James.

“Shrunk to a fiftieth of your size and hiding in an overhead luggage locker?” asked Jeremy.

“It’s an unusual bit of life,” conceded James. “But there’s beer, and my mates, and nothing’s chasing us. I’m all in favour.”

“Yeah,” agreed Richard, now almost horizontal as he gulped the last dregs from his bottle, his eyes beginning to close almost of their own accord.

Then, just as he was as blissfully relaxed as he was going to achieve, he saw something else move in the overhead locker.

“Guys?” he whispered, leaning over to first James then Jeremy and nudging them from their current state of relaxation.

“Go away, Hamster,” grumbled Jeremy. “I’m comfy.”

“Can you not sit still for one minute, Hammond?” protested James.

“There’s something moving in here,” said Richard, now fully alert, ignoring their remarks completely.

“Drink’s gone to his head, James,” commented Jeremy.

“When doesn’t it?” muttered James.

“Really!” insisted Richard, shaking Jeremy’s arm and pointing to the other end of the locker. “I can see it moving, Jez!”

“You’re making me get up?” complained Jeremy, glaring at Richard, but still lifting himself to his feet with a groan. “Wow, that beer was potent, what was it?”

“Not sure,” shrugged Richard, “I was a bit preoccupied with not being eaten by the giant baby.”

“Always a good life goal,” nodded James, not moving at all.

“I could have been contaminated by inferior beer!” protested Jeremy.

“Get lost,” said Richard, without any real heat. “Just get off your arse and look at that movement over there.”

Finally, Jeremy looked over to the other side of the locker, peering into the semi-darkness. “You’re imagini… oh yes, I see something. I think it’s a tarantula.”

Richard’s eyes widened. “A tarantula! Like a spider only worse?!”

Jeremy shrugged. “That’s what it looks like.”

“I don’t think it’s very likely a tarantula got through security,” commented James, still unmoving against the rucksack.

“I really don’t like tarantulas,” said Richard. “I think I’m going to stay in the rucksack. Maybe this plane has been somewhere exotic and it snook on there.”

“Hamster, I don’t think you’re big enough for it to bother to eat you,” said Jeremy. “Doesn’t it eat birds?”

“Well there aren’t any handy birds in here, what if it happens to feel a bit peckish?”

“We can bring it crisps,” suggested James. “Now that you’ve got so good at trolley thievery.”

“Bird flavour?” asked Jeremy.

“They don’t make bird flavour crisps,” whispered Richard.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, it won’t really be a tarantula, that’s ridiculous. We’re in the middle of a pandemic, remember? I think the cleaning staff might be good enough at their job to not miss a dirty great tarantula.”

“You’re the one who said it was a tarantula!” protested Richard.

“No, I said it looked like a tarantula. That’s quite different.”

“OK then, what looks like a tarantula?” pressed Richard.

“Well, a tarantula, but also a number of other spiders.”

James, who whilst they were arguing had finally moved, began to laugh. “Pillocks,” he giggled, the word wheezing its way between snorts.

“What?” yelled Richard.

“May?” asked Jeremy.

“It’s a robot, you imbeciles,” spluttered James. “There’s a red light on it and the legs aren’t moving!”

Richard peered into the darkness, slightly embarrassed. “Oh yeah.”

“Do you think we could ride on it?” asked Jeremy, beaming all over his face.

“Yes! I will defeat a spider,” declared Richard, abruptly running towards the monster and grabbing at one of its legs, shimmying up it even as the thing continued to move.

Jeremy, just as keen but much less agile, loped over, then found himself stuck clinging to a hind leg, unable to move himself any further up. Richard, enthusiastic as ever, reached over and pulled at the larger man, with more or less no effect, until James – still chuckling over their idiocy and general ineptitude – ambled over and gave Jeremy a shove from behind, boosting him so far forward that he landed almost on top of Richard on the body of the spider.

“James! I had that!” yelled Richard, extracting himself from under Jeremy.

“Sure you did,” laughed James, poking at the spider’s legs to check out its construction.

“Oh yes!” shouted Jeremy, moving himself to behind the spider’s head and sitting astride it. “I have tamed a giant spider!”

“With a little assistance,” put in Richard, wobbling as the spider suddenly turned a corner. “Is there any way to steer?”

“Hmm,” said Jeremy, grinning just as much as he had in his moment of triumph. “I have no idea how to steer! We’re out of control!”

Richard laughed. “It’s a rampaging spider! It’s going to eat James.”

“It’s not,” laughed James, “I’ve found the controller.”

Sure enough, James stood looking smug on a large controller, leaning over to nudge the joysticks with his whole body, and occasionally stamping on buttons with his right foot.

“Ah,” said Richard. “We could be in trouble here.”

James’ grin widened.

“Definitely in trouble,” agreed Jeremy, looking around, “we need something to hang on to.”

“Or we could bail?” suggested Richard. “That bag looks pretty squashy.”

The spider accelerated, quickly bypassing the most appealing bag, then spun round, hurtling the two of them towards the end of the locker at pace.

“Jaaaaaammmmmeeesss!” yelled Richard, grabbing on to Jeremy to try to keep his balance.

Jeremy, clinging on to the spider with one hand and grabbing Richard with the other, groaned. “What have you been eating? You weigh a ton.”

“Ha ha,” said Richard. “Just trying to keep up with your expansion, mate.”

“I’ll drop you,” said Jeremy.

“Fine, fine, I’ve been living on pizza. Pull me up!”

Apparently satisfied, Jeremy swung his arm and Richard landed with a thump on the spider behind him. “Now this time, Hamster, sit down properly.” Jeremy gestured at his own position, with a leg on either side of the spider’s body.

“I wasn’t expecting it to turn bucking bronco!”

“But you knew James had an evil streak,” pointed out Jeremy.

“I’m sitting down,” sighed Richard, sliding into position behind Jeremy, and hanging on to his friend. “James, have you finished yet?” he added.

Across the other side of the locker, he could hear a faint, “Oh cock.”

The spider began to spin.

“James!” shouted Jeremy. “This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not doing anything! It’s broken!” James responded. It wasn’t possible to look at what he was doing, the spider was spinning too rapidly, but from the tone of his voice, Richard thought he probably believed him. James could be an arsehole, of course, but he wasn’t actually looking to kill them.

Probably.

“James! Fix it!” yelled Richard.

“Now!” added Jeremy.

“Jez?” said Richard. “I think I’m going to puke.”

“That way,” replied Jeremy, gesturing away from him at the backend of the vehicle.

“Guh,” agreed Richard.

“Got it!” yelled James, waving the enormous battery cover at them, with the battery laid triumphantly at his feet, as the spider came to an abrupt halt.

Jeremy and Richard sat on the now stationary spider, breathing hard and still clutching onto each other and the spider beneath them.

“Can I open my eyes now?” asked Richard groggily.

“Don’t know, my eyeballs have fallen out,” replied Jeremy. “I’d quite like to get down though. Suddenly a lie down in our boring rucksack is sounding like a good plan.”

“Yeah, when the room stops spinning,” agreed Richard. “I feel much more drunk than I should.”

“Sorry, lads,” piped up James, unexpectedly right next to them. “It was just meant to be a bit of fun, but I think I was a bit vigorous with one of the buttons.”

“I’ll forgive you if you help me down,” groaned Richard.

“Yes, you can do all the heavy lifting,” muttered Jeremy, unhelpfully, reaching down to grab one of the spider’s legs and using James as extra support once he was in range.

Richard, crawled towards the leg as Jeremy sprawled out across the floor, clutching the leg tightly as he slowly slid down it, steadied by an obviously guilty James as he got to the bottom.

“Come on,” said James softly, putting an arm round Richard’s shaky shoulders, and reaching down to tug Jeremy back to his feet. “Let’s go find somewhere a bit quieter.”

“Urrrgghhh, I think I’ve died,” declared Jeremy, taking James’ hand and hauling himself up from the floor.

“Definitely,” agreed James, “you have the look of a zombie.”

“His arm didn’t come off though,” observed Richard quietly.

James wrapped an arm round Jeremy’s swaying torso in an effort to keep him from falling over again. It made any movement towards the rucksack very difficult, but it kept them all upright, at least until Richard let go in order to throw up in the pocket of someone else’s bag – he was hoping it belonged to the owner of the malfunctioning spider.

“I’ll catch up,” he coughed, just as below them the sound of the seatbelt sign sounded and the engine noise changed.

“You’ve got no time,” said James.

“I’ll only be a minute,” promised Richard, emptying the remainder of his stomach contents into the bag then more or less crawling after them, the whole room still spinning around him.

James more or less posted Jeremy through the hole into the rucksack, then turned back to drag Richard back to his feet and inside, pushing them both out of his way as he closed the zipper behind them.

“I’m definitely dead,” groaned Jeremy, crawling to the bottom of the rucksack, and finding himself a comfortable spot to collapse in.

“I think,” said Richard, “that a nap is really the only cure for this.” And with that, he removed his coat, rummaging round flattening the surface of the bag on the ground before curling up with his head resting on his coat, almost immediately asleep.

“At least now I get some peace,” muttered James, rummaging through the box to see if there was any interesting reading material, and returning to his seat against the side of the rucksack with an instruction manual for a graphics calculator he’d never heard of, content to read it nonetheless.

…………………………………………………………………………………………

James didn’t nap at all. He sat in the rucksack with his two slumbering mates through the plane’s landing and Stig’s abrupt collection of the bag – a movement that tossed the three of them round quite a bit, and left James lying on his back with his legs in the air for several minutes. Richard was no longer resting on his coat, and Jeremy was sprawled out on a completely different bit of floor, but they both continued to sleep as Stig walked through the airport.

It was dull, with the others asleep, but not to the point where James wanted to climb the ladder and look outside again. James didn’t mind things being boring for a little while, it made a nice change from the adrenaline rush of panic – for instance when his mates were riding a giant robotic spider that was out of control. Or when his mates had decided on some other thrill seeking, ridiculous task, James wasn’t really short of examples. Tired of the instruction manual, he began reciting poems to himself, wondering if the noise of him doing so would annoy the others enough to wake them up.

Finally, the bag stopped swaying and, after a brief flight through the air, landed on what was most likely a car seat, tossing them all around in the bottom of the bag again as it settled in a different position. Both Jeremy and Richard stirred, and for a moment James thought they were going to wake up, but then the improved comfort of the car seat took hold, and they both began to snore softly again. Weary, James found the more comfortable seat relaxing and slowly he too drifted off to sleep.

Leaving the three of them with no idea how far they’d travelled.


	3. Top Gear

Jeremy was the first to awake, into dimly lit darkness. He lay on his back for a moment, taking in his surroundings. He was lying on something marginally comfortable – better than the rucksack at least – the bag itself was gone. To his left, James lay on his back, snoring as loudly as ever. Richard, on the other hand, was curled up on Jeremy’s right, his relaxed face clearly visible. Further afield, they were clearly indoors, Jeremy could see the ceiling above them, lit with small spotlights, and adorned with girders. A big building then, not just someone’s house.

He sat up, taking in their more immediate surroundings, then jumping as he recognised something with a stab of warm nostalgia that was quickly followed by blinding panic.

“Hamster!” He immediately turned to shake his friend, keen to wake him up quickly. “James!”

James, on waking, opened his eyes but didn’t otherwise move, his eyes nevertheless managing to glare at him with a stare that suggested he was likely to witness his own death later on. Richard opened just one eye for a minute, then abruptly shot to his feet, wobbling a little as his circulation struggled to catch up.

“What?” squeaked Richard.

“No, Clarkson,” said James, closing his eyes again.

“Woah, Jez, is this…?” Richard tailed off, gazing in shock at their surroundings.

“I think so,” said Jeremy. “Are we going to be arrested?”

“Only if someone notices us,” replied Richard reasonably. “We’re still small, right?”

Jeremy resisted, but he fancied James gave a huff of laughter at the comment. “Yes.” He gestured just beyond James. “Our toy cars.”

“Oh yeah,” grinned Richard. “Actually, I’m quite keen to take a look at mine, now that I can get in it. See how good a job I did on the bed, and if anything else works.”

“But Richard,” protested Jeremy, waving his arm at their surroundings.

“Bloody hell,” exclaimed James, finally waking up properly. “Are we really back? In the studio?”

“It certainly looks like it,” agreed Jeremy. “There’s Stig’s banner.”

“That’s a point,” chimed in Richard. “Where’s real Stig gone?”

“He’s not really much for hanging round and making conversation,” shrugged James. “He probably just dropped us off.”

“Dropped us off!” exclaimed Jeremy. “Brought us into the pit of fire! We’re not supposed to be here, ever!”

“Calm down, Jez,” rumbled James, grinning annoyingly. “You’re 3cm high, who’s even going to notice you?”

“Jez! Look, our old Hilux! I kind of miss that thing,” Richard beamed at him. “I’m going to get in my van and drive over there, visit it.”

“But…” began Jeremy. “We can’t…”

James grinned again. “When are you ever going to get the chance again? No one’s going to blame you or mind while you’re tiny.”

“Are you saying that I’m currently insignificant?” protested Jeremy.

“Yes I am,” laughed James. “How does it feel?”

“Not bad, actually,” said Jeremy, turning to his truck with renewed enthusiasm. “Race you to the Hilux, Hamster,” he yelled as he climbed into the cab, pausing just for a moment to appreciate the success of his choice he as was able to use the door and then his legs fit comfortably in the driver’s seat. “Come on, James, let’s go see how she’s doing,” he added.

James shrugged, wandering forward happy to climb into his ambulance, and – in no particular hurry – check over its interior.

“This is great!” yelled Richard out of the window of the camper van, heading for the ramp holding the old, red Toyota Hilux, but swerving erratically as he did so.

“Are you actually looking where you’re going, Hamster?” asked Jeremy, coming up alongside him in the bright yellow Tonka truck and winding the passenger window down.

“Just testing the steering!” he replied, still beaming ear to ear. “Have you seen my awesome van? These things work so much better when they’re new and not converted into a canal boat!”

“And they’re toys?” added Jeremy.

“Well that too,” agreed Richard, unperturbed, screeching to a halt at the bottom of the Hilux’s ramp and climbing out to pat one of the wheels.

Jeremy laughed. “I’ve missed her too, she was amazing.”

Richard turned round, his target reached. “Look – they’ve got the skiing mini out over there!”

“And the car from the 24 hour rally,” added Jeremy. “The one you crashed.”

Richard blushed. “Yeah, I don’t think that one will be as keen to greet me. Oh! They’ve got our chairs! I want to go and sit on our chairs!”

“Have you been missing Top Gear, Hamster?” chuckled Jeremy.

“Well, a bit, yeah, now that I’m looking at it again,” he nodded. “Not that I don’t like the tent and mucking about without the BBC telling us off, obviously,” he added quickly.

“I know what you mean,” agreed Jeremy, patting his shoulder. “Come on, let’s go sit on our seats again.”

Richard grinned up at him, then almost leapt back into his camper van. Jeremy shook his head, amused.

“I’ve got no idea how we’re going to get up onto those seats,” he commented to himself.

…………………………………………………………………………………

James hummed happily, satisfied with the state of his ambulance, and feeling quite pleased with himself. He had a reasonably comfortable bed, a basic but effective set of tools, which now that his fingers were small enough to interact with the insides of the ambulance properly he’d been able to organise, and he even had a working siren with a mechanism to sound it from the driver’s seat. He was ready to go.

Of course, he’d got no idea where his ridiculous co-presenters had got to by now. It had been nice to do his checks without them standing around complaining though.

Obviously, initially they’d been planning on heading for the Hilux, so as he climbed into the driver’s seat, he pointed his ambulance towards that, but as he drove, he could see the other two vehicles crossing the floor in the direction of the seating in the middle, so he adjusted his course, wondering what exactly they were up to. Most likely, he decided, they were just bouncing off each other with the excitement of seeing all their old Top Gear toys again. James had to admit, it was great to see this stuff.

Wait.

James frowned, the glimmer of a thought wandering past his brain. Whilst he hadn’t watched Top Gear regularly with its new presenters, he’d seen enough to recognise it. They might have been using the studio, but they’d changed the cars they had hanging round, hadn’t they? Why would the new presenters surround themselves with only cars from the old team?

They wouldn’t.

So where on Earth were they?

James accelerated towards his friends, trying to decide if not actually being in the Top Gear studio made them in more or less trouble.

……………………………………………………………………………

“Maybe you could give me a boost?” Richard was suggesting to Jeremy – whilst climbing from the top of his camper van onto one of the chair’s legs, clutching onto it for dear life and trying to shimmy higher.

Jeremy looked sceptical. I could push you a bit higher, but then what?” he asked.

James cleared his throat, causing both of them to turn to look at him.

“James!” called Richard, his hands too full to wave, though he sounded as though he was waving. “I’m trying to sit on the Top Gear seat again.”

“This isn’t the Top Gear studio,” declared James, causing Richard to let go of the chair leg and – thankfully – drop back onto the roof of his can.

“What? It looks just like it!” protested Richard. “I could prove it, if I could just get into that chair.”

“By proving that your bum fits the seat?” asked James, barely containing his laughter.

“It’s possible my bum’s not quite what it was,” admitted Richard.

“Of course! It’s been 5 years, of course the new Top Gear isn’t still presenting surrounded by all our old stuff,” said Jeremy. “This is that place where they’ve been sending all our old creations to die.”

“Like Area 51 for Top Gear?” asked Richard, baffled.

James spluttered. “Yeah, only with slightly less government denial. It’s a museum, isn’t it Jez?”

“Yeah,” nodded Jeremy. “Beaulieu. We’re on the south coast somewhere.”

“OK,” shrugged Richard. “So this is still my chair?”

“Yes, Hamster, still your real chair,” admitted James with something of a sigh.

“Can you help me get up to it? I think if Jeremy stands on the roof of my van…”

“Why?” asked James. “Why does it matter?”

“It’s my chair,” said Richard. “I miss it.”

James sighed again. “I think I can do a bit better than testing the reach of Jezza’s arms. I have some thread in the back of my ambulance.”

“That might be better,” agreed Richard, sitting down on top of his van to wait.

Moments later, to Jeremy’s endless amusement, James reappeared with the tiniest reel ever of some bright pink thread, proceeding to hand the loose end to Jeremy.

“Here, you make yourself useful, turn that into a harness,” he instructed the older man.

“What are you doing?” asked Jeremy.

“I’m going to throw the other end through the arm of the chair,” said James, taking a couple of abysmal practice attempts across the floor. “I meant that,” he added.

“Fine,” grumbled Jeremy, climbing up onto Richard’s van, which wobbled alarmingly, and winding the pink thread round the smaller man until he could barely move – only his arms and legs escaping his efforts.

“I hope you brought some scissors, James,” squeaked Richard as Jeremy stepped back and giggled at his handiwork.

“Yes!” shouted James, triumphantly, ignoring Richard entirely and responding to their quizzical looks. “It’s hooked through the arm of the chair,” he explained.

“OK,” said Richard. “Now what?”

“We pull,” said James, brandishing the other end of the thread.

“You want me to do more manual labour? Can’t you pull him up on your own?” protested Jeremy. “He’s not big enough to weigh anything.”

“I’m sure I could,” replied James. “I just thought it might be easier if you helped. Can’t think why.”

Jeremy clambered down from the van, muttering under his breath, but he went to James’ side, and moments later, Richard was lifted into the air.

“Woah, that’s quite scary,” said Richard, twisting in an effort to reach for the chair’s leg again.

“Hold still, Hamster!” yelled James. “We’ve got you.”

“Forgive me if that doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence,” commented Richard, partly under his breath.

Jeremy winked at James, and – just for a second – both of them let go of the thread, sending Richard plummeting rapidly towards the floor.

“What was that, Hamster?” asked Jeremy.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, you’re both wonderful and I would never criticise you,” squealed Richard, breathing heavily. “I might have changed my mind about how much I want to sit on that chair.”

“Nope,” said Jeremy. “You are going to sit on that chair now.”

“Ahhhhhhh,” screamed Richard as Jeremy and then James yanked on the thread, hurtling him back upwards, directly at the underside of the chair’s cushion, at some pace.

“Will you stop whinging,” complained Jeremy. “We’re getting you there aren’t we? That’s what you wanted.”

“This is much scarier than I imagined,” yelled Richard, holding his arms out just enough to deflect himself off the edge of the cushion and bounce onto the chair – safe at last.

“How’s the chair, Hamster?” called Jeremy.

“Squashy,” said Richard, lying back against it, “but not quite like I remember. I feel a bit like I did when I tried to drive that giant jeep in Dubai.”

A clatter sounded behind them, a door in the background that they hadn’t even noticed opening, and the noise of squeaky wheels moving across the smooth floor.

“What’s that?” asked James, turning to look behind them.

Richard, from his better vantage point, ran to the edge of the chair to take a look. “It’s a cleaner! She’s got a mop!”

Jeremy and James exchanged a look, unsure of how to dodge their new foe, but confident they didn’t want to get caught. Or worse, mopped up.

“You should be OK up there,” called Jeremy. “Maybe hide between the cushions?”

“Ugh,” groaned Richard. “Imagine what I might find in there. What about you? Can you get up here?”

“Maybe,” said James, turning to Jeremy again. “Can you send the harness down?”

Richard turned to the thread wrapped around his body, starting to pick at the ends. “Umm..”

“I might have been a bit too thorough,” said Jeremy. “I am Mr Health and Safety.”

“Of course,” groaned James. “What then? How are we going to get onto the chair?”

“I have a plan,” said Jeremy, reaching for the end of the thread. “First, Hamster needs to come back down though.”

“I do? Why?”

“So James can use his scissors to cut you out,” began Jeremy. “No, wait, I have a better plan, but you still need to come down.”

“Are you sure?” asked Richard, leaning over the edge of the chair to peer at them.

“Yes,” nodded Jeremy, reaching out to grab the thread, before addressing James. “James, have you got anything that can hold the accelerator pedal down on my truck?”

“I’m going to regret this aren’t I?” said James.

Jeremy shrugged. “Probably.”

James seemed content to leave his complaints at that, moving between his ambulance and the truck several times as Jeremy (mostly) slowly lowered a fairly shaky Richard. Finally, with Richard firmly on the ground – and still completely entangled with the thread, Jeremy revealed his plan, tying the other end of the thread to the truck and beckoning to James.

“We’re going to have to hold on to him,” explained Jeremy.

“We’ll need to bring the scissors too,” put in James, “or he’ll just be pulled straight down again.”

“What?” said Richard, observing his friends worriedly. “I think I’m over the need to sit on my chair now, if we could maybe stay on the floor?”

“Behold my genius,” said Jeremy, ignoring Richard’s protests and setting the truck going, the thread now tied to the back of it. As the slack was taken up and Richard began to rise again, Jeremy and James each grabbed hold of him around the chest, clinging on as they rose onto the chair and the truck headed across the floor.

“I don’t think I can breathe anymore,” gasped Richard, having no effect on the grip of his mates.

“I’m not in a position to let go just now,” pointed out James.

“Nearly there,” said Jeremy, a smug smile rolling across his face as they bounced across the side of the cushion, James’ tightening grip on Richard causing the younger man to squeak indignantly. 

“We’re up!” announced Jeremy, waiting for James to unclench his eyelids. “James?”

As Richard instantly started to skitter across the seat and towards the drop again, James, his eyes open again, dropped Richard and grabbed his scissors, cutting the thread as quickly as he could, though it took several attempts and no small amount of swearing as it bounced across the chair. Jeremy, meanwhile, kept hold of the smaller man as tightly as he could, trying to slow him down and keep him anchored while James separated him from the truck.

It hadn’t been the smoothest of rides, but they were all safely on the chair. For a moment they lay, breathing heavily, side by side on the seat, Jeremy still clutching Richard’s arm.

“Revel in my genius,” boomed Jeremy in Richard’s ear. “We’re all up – without you trying to pull me up on your own.”

“I think I might have preferred that,” groaned Richard. “That was quite stressful.”

“I hate to spoil your Hamster dreams,” said Jeremy. “But there is no way on earth you could possibly pull me up there.”

“I…” Richard sat up, an action made more difficult by the vast swathe of thread still wrapped round his body.

James held his hand up, silently, catching first Richard’s eye and then Jeremy’s.

“If you’ve quite finished with your delusions,” he stated quietly. “Perhaps you’d like me to cut the thread off you?”

“Sorry, James,” said Richard, looking genuinely ashamed for a moment.

“We’ll be good,” added Jeremy.

“Please get me out of this.”

“Of course, Hammond,” said James, as though he hadn’t just been telling him off, pushing him onto his back, and muttering at Jeremy. “What on earth were you thinking when you wrapped this around him?”

Below them, the truck continued across the floor, eventually bouncing off a wall and stopping with a clatter.

The cleaner looked up, clearly noticing the noise. “What do we have here?” she said, bending down to pick up the tiny, yellow truck. “I’ll have to hand you in, see if some little kiddie’s lost you,” she told the truck, placing it in her pocket for the moment.


	4. The Dampervan

The next morning, James was woken up – very abruptly – by a loud banging noise on a window nearby. It didn’t make any sense, to the extent that he kept his eyes closed and ignored it for several minutes, confident that he’d fallen asleep in the Top Gear chair, nowhere near any windows, only really worried about avoiding getting mopped up and retrieving their vehicles.

But the noise persisted, and there didn’t seem to be any dream left to go with it, so he conceded and opened his eyes. There, in front of him, was an unfamiliar windscreen with a child’s face pressed against it. It looked like he was licking the glass.

James winced.

Then he noticed Richard stirring next to him, his shorter friend lying on his front and apparently pressing his nose to the chair, but clearly awake and acting with a purpose – whatever that might be. He looked a lot like the small boy a minute before, so James decided he should just be grateful that the Hamster wasn’t licking the seat too.

On the other side of Richard, Jeremy was flat on his back, still snoring away.

“What are you doing?” he asked Richard, unable to ignore the weird sniffing noises any longer.

“Smell this,” said Richard, tapping on the seat cover.

“Why?” asked James.

“I recognise the smell, it’s kind of smoky. Like burnt exhaust. It’s really familiar but I can’t quite place it.”

He was interrupted by a protracted groan from Jeremy. “Will you two be quiet, some of us are trying to sleep,” he grumbled.

“Well, be all morning person then,” retaliated Richard. “I’m trying to figure out where we are, because I’m pretty sure we’re not where we left us.”

James shook his head, smiling. “And we don’t know where the cars are either.”

“Dampervan!” exclaimed Richard, suddenly. “It’s the second dampervan! It’s the smell of burning foam.”

“I’m not going anywhere in that thing, it kept trying to drown us,” declared Jeremy, finally opening his eyes and squinting at them.

“We can’t drive it, it’s full size!” Richard paused. “I’m not sure it still works either.” He got up, climbing over Jeremy and making his way to the dampervan’s door to look out of the window.

“Any sign of our cars?” asked James.

“Yeah, I can see them here,” Richard replied, hanging off the bottom of the window by his fingertips. “They’re just to the side of the dampervan, hidden from the walkway.”

“So we’ll need to go through the dampervan?” asked James.

“Yeah, I would think so,” said Richard, jumping down. “We can probably use the anchor at the back to get down, it’ll just be suicidal from here – unless you’ve got pockets full of thread.”

James shrugged. “All in the ambulance.”

“We’ve got to make our way through here?” asked Jeremy. “I should’ve stayed asleep.”

“It’s excellent, is my dampervan!” argued Richard.

“Yes, that’s why it got so far from Dover,” said Jeremy.

“That doesn’t reflect on what it’s like to cross as a small person,” said Richard.

Jeremy raised his eyebrows, James laughed.

“Right, we’d better get going then,” announced Jeremy, finally getting up and stretching with a series of cracks and grunts.

“Right,” agreed James, making his way to the wheel that controlled the seat back position. “Give me a hand pushing this?”

“Ahh, good thinking,” grinned Richard, jogging over to help and pulling at it with all his might and making no difference whatsoever.

“Stand aside,” said Jeremy. “I think what you need here is bulk.”

“Still 3cm tall,” said James, mildly.

“Better than 2cm,” he responded, waving vaguely in Richard’s direction, before stepping on to the wheel and pushing against the seat.

The back of the chair responded very slightly, resulting in Jeremy stopping to make an L on his forehead at the other two, before once more stepping onto the wheel. Moments later, James joined him, and between them they made steady progress, lowering the seat until it finally hit the counter behind it, making the mugs there jingle slightly.

“Yes!” yelled Richard, from his position next to the handbrake, peering round the seat.

“Bulk is useful,” said Jeremy.

“Not when you’re climbing up the back of a seat,” laughed Richard, easily scrambling up and making his way to the top of the cooker in moments.

“You’re very annoying,” observed James, slowly making his way up the seat.

“I’ve spotted food on the cooker.”

“That does improve things,” conceded James. “Is there coffee?”

“Yes!” yelled Richard, though he wasn’t close enough to check, needing to hurdle a number of pan holders first. “I can smell it!”

“Making good use of your nose this morning, Hamster, is this some sort of rodent manifestation?” asked Jeremy, hauling himself up to the top of the chair.

“Ha ha,” grinned Richard. “Must be.” He hopped over a few more bars and headed over to the food.

…………………………………………………………………………

“So, washing up bowl, then magazines?” suggested James.

Richard laughed. “Yeah, looks like it. I hope someone cleared up that milk I spilt on the way to Dover.”

“Lovely,” said James. “I’m going to suggest we keep to the window whilst we pass the washing up bowl,” he added. “I’m not keen on walking along the edge of the counter.”

“You and your vertigo, James. I didn’t think that was even possible indoors,” remarked Jeremy.

“Apparently it is,” said James.

Jeremy snorted. “Apparently. Come on then, let’s get going. I’m ready to get this journey going on wheels, less of this manual walking bit, it’s not right.”

“Old man legs?” asked Richard, grinning cheekily.

“And knees,” agreed Jeremy, standing up with another unpleasant cracking noise and waiting for the others to join him. He strode towards the edge of the washing up bowl, carefully climbing over various bars and a stray washing up sponge, James behind him and Richard bringing up the rear. There wasn’t much to see really, aside from the perspective change, the dampervan looked very much like it had done during the challenge, and Jeremy had never really considered taking the time to inspect every inch of it. Thinking about it, it was the original dampervan he’d been inside, he wasn’t even sure he’d been inside this one before.

Walking was definitely too slow for him.

And then it wasn’t.

Jeremy was just approaching the narrowest section of the walkway along the counter, passing first one of the window’s pillars and then the widest part of the washing up bowl, when he heard an unexpected noise from behind him. The others had been pretty quiet, James was most likely concentrating on not thinking about being high up, though Jeremy had no idea what it would take to make Richard stop talking.

Then he saw. As he turned round, he could see a fly buzzing about behind Richard and clearly causing him to watch it intently, flapping at it as though his arms at this size would have any effect.

“Hamster..” he began, undecided whether to begin with mocking or reassurance, when the fly abruptly changed direction, flying directly towards Richard. Maybe he’d spilled some of his breakfast on himself?

“Arrghh,” yelled Richard, suddenly speeding up to a run, slipping past James quickly and heading for Jeremy.

James jumped, obviously edgy and not expecting it, even though Richard hadn’t even touched him, which distracted Jeremy with more mocking opportunities, and meant that he failed to step out of the way when Richard came flying past him.

Well, he should have gone flying past him. But the gap was very narrow, and Jeremy hadn’t stepped aside, so even as the fly buzzed over his head, Richard slammed right into the side of him.

Then bounced off – into the washing up bowl, which was full of water.

There was a mighty splash, followed by a whimper, and a muffled cry of, “Oohh, that’s really cold!” The fly that started it all quickly lost interest and flew back to the easy pickings at the cooker.

Jeremy peered down into the washing up bowl, openly laughing now as Richard swam – badly, his head held well above the water – towards the side of the bowl.

“You pillock,” laughed James, peering into the washing up bowl despite his misgivings about the height.

Richard, finally reaching the edge of the bowl and staring up at his two friends, spluttered quietly. “I don’t think I can climb out on my own.”

Jeremy, already giggling at the sight, cracked up completely, worse when he caught James’ helpless amusement, bending over and bracing his hands against his knees as he roared.

“Jez, I can’t reach,” pleaded Richard, waving his hands in the direction of the edge of the bowl, ostensibly to demonstrate that he couldn’t actually reach the top.

Jeremy giggled even harder, the sight of Richard’s lack of size always a source of amusement, no matter how much they played with it.

“Are you sure?” he choked out. “Surely anyone could reach that with a bit of effort, you’re just not trying hard enough.”

James, already laughing, started to let out his proper braying laugh, the occasional one he saved for when he was really tickled by something.

“Gits,” yelled Richard. “I can’t reach, look!” He waved both hands in the direction of the lip at the edge of the bowl again, this time disappearing under the water slightly as he did so, then reappearing, coughing up water.

Jeremy sighed, bending down with a groan of his knees and back and reaching to grab Richard’s hand. “Admit it, Hamster, a properly sized person would have no problem with that.”

“I admit it! Pull me up, Jez – I don’t like the water!”

Jeremy grinned, evilly. “For a million pounds?”

“Definitely, a million pounds for you, pull me out!”

Easily, Jeremy tugged his small friend out of the water, planting him on his feet and holding on to him for a moment as he steadied himself, dripping a huge puddle onto the counter top.

“Thanks, Jez,” shivered Richard, wrapping his arms round himself in an attempt to warm up.

“Now you’re slowing us down by being all cold and wet,” grumbled Jeremy, his words contradicting his actions, as his hands continued to hang on to Richard’s and he peered into Richard’s face. Moving his hands, finally, he reached for Richard’s sopping wet shirt, carefully removing that and then tugging his T-shirt off over his head, Richard staring at him in surprise but too busy shivering to protest.

“What are you doing, Jez?” asked James.

“Speeding him up,” replied Jeremy, without an ounce of embarrassment. “We can’t spend all day waiting for him.”

Richard shuddered again, his hair still dripping over his bare shoulders.

Jeremy, no longer holding on to Richard, slowly removed his own knitted cardigan wrapping it around Richard’s shoulders and waiting for him to poke his arms into the sleeves, before zipping up the front with another giggle. “I, however, was prepared for all eventualities with unnecessary, and very fetching, clothing.”

Richard, still shivering and now quite bemused, lifted his – completely hidden – hands up in the sleeves of the jumper in a kind of shrug. “Handy, thanks.” Then he began to squelch across the rest of the counter.

Jeremy, watched him go before turning to James. Their eyes met for the briefest of seconds, but that’s all it took for both of them to erupt into even more laughter, with James hiccupping out incomprehensible comments about Richard and the ridiculous jumper.

Richard ignored them, continuing to leave a trail of wet footprints as we walked, muttering under his breath about insects and mean co-presenters.

……………………………………………………………………

Richard almost wasn’t paying attention when he abruptly reached the end of the counter, and found himself very nearly simply carrying on walking – like walking off a cliff cartoon style. Thankfully, as he left foot hovered above the massive drop, he noticed and leaned backwards, managing to both stay in place and avoid wobbling enough to alert his co-presenters to his mistake.

“We’re there,” he called, turning back to face the others for the first time since they’d departed the washing up bowl, probably 30 minutes earlier. Thankfully, the laughter had died down, Richard’s jeans were still cold and wet, of course, but he definitely wasn’t going to whine about that – Jeremy might turn out to have spare trousers.

Or worse – though he wasn’t sure what would be worse.

“Marvellous,” said Jeremy, joining him to peer over the edge, looking down – largely – onto the wide, red seat at the back of the dampervan. “Looks reasonably squashy, how hard can it be?”

“Don’t say that!” Richard racked his brains, idly trying to remember how the cushions had felt. He didn’t remember them being stupidly hard or anything though, so Jeremy was probably right. “Just jump, you think?”

“Yeah, I want to see Captain Slow do it,” responded Jeremy, despite his own obvious hesitation.

“Last one to jump has to share a tent with James?” suggested Richard, looking up at Jeremy with a grin.

“We’re not camping,” stated Jeremy, puzzled.

“I’m sure we will be at some point,” retorted Richard, brimming over with the genius of his plan.

“OK, you’re on.” Jeremy stood ready to jump, but still couldn’t quite bring himself to move.

“Umm.” Richard peered over the side again, swallowing back his fear, then jumped. Realistically, it couldn’t have taken him long to land, but somehow it felt like a long time. He definitely had time to feel the air rushing past him, and to worry about whether the cushion was actually going to break his fall, or if he’d just bounce off it somehow. Then, finally, he hit the cushion, feet first, but then quickly rolling over onto his back, collapsing spread-eagle on the cushion in relief.

Then he heard Jeremy yell, “Geronimo!”

Looking up, he could see the great oaf heading straight for him, arms flailing and the roar continuing as he fell. Jeremy couldn’t do anything quietly. Richard scrambled to his feet, backing up hastily as Jeremy landed precisely where he’d been lying moments before. Richard held his jumper-clad hands out to steady his friend in an effort to stop him from bowling them both over that really did little more than slow their fall down for a moment.

“Sorry Hamster,” laughed Jeremy, lying back against the soft surface in an action that mimicked Richard’s a few moments earlier.

“I win,” said Richard, grinning broadly. “Next time we’re under canvas, you’ve got even more to complain about than normal.”

“I’ll have to console myself with the memory of this moment,” responded Jeremy, nodding towards the counter top above them where James stood, carefully examining the edge.

“Ah,” said Richard. “We should probably get comfortable.”

…………………………………………………………………………

James stared at the drop. Granted, it was probably only a foot or so, and it definitely had a soft landing, but it looked as though they were asking him to jump off a cliff. He didn’t care if the others had already done it, he wasn’t a lemming.

Which was all wrong anyway, because lemmings didn’t do that for real.

James shook his head, looking at the drop again and not thinking about creatures with blue hair at all. Not that looking at the drop really helped. Maybe he could do it backwards, sort of by accident?

“Come on, Slow!” boomed Jeremy from below.

As if that would make any difference, James rolled his eyes.

“We’ll catch you!” called Richard, enthusiastically waving his hands, still encased in the preposterous jumper.

Right. They were being encouraging, and their ideas were only likely to get worse. Realistically, he’d do better if they just left, but suggesting that would get him nowhere. The only answer was to jump.

James’ feet stood firmly at the edge of the counter, showing no inclination to move anywhere.

“Jump!”

“Come on, James!”

Get a grip, you can jump 30 centimetres. Even an ant with vertigo can manage that.

Actually, can ants jump? Maybe that wasn’t a good analogy.

Can Captain Slow jump? That’s the question, James reminded himself, wondering how long his colleagues would manage to wait for him. If he really took hours, would they wait? He genuinely wasn’t sure, but it seemed doubtful, it wasn’t as if either of them was exactly a font of patience.

Still, as peaceful as it might be, getting left behind wasn’t something he would choose deliberately so he should really just jump.

Leap.

Hurtle.

Plummet.

No, that wasn’t working.

Jeremy and Richard seemed to be having some kind of confab, which really wasn’t something James wanted to think too hard about. Though it was a distraction from the jumping.

Then they started waving around a lot. Not obviously at him, because he was pretty sure there’d be more shouting, but definitely waving. If they were taking up semaphore, he wasn’t following. He looked back, briefly wondering if there was perhaps someone they were trying to signal to through the window behind him or something.

There, almost in his face, was the fly.

James wasn’t worried about flies, they didn’t bother him, but this one was bigger than his own torso.

James took a step back, and fell.

“Drop the sweets!” yelled Richard, far too close to James’ ear for comfort as his backside made contact with the cushion with a thump.

“What?” said James.

“Jez! Drop the sweets!” repeated Richard, this time pulling at James arm and hauling him back onto his feet, heedless of his discomfort.

“Good grief, I’m on it, stop yelling,” protested Jeremy, dropping a small stack of jelly babies onto the cushion, then taking one enormous stride forwards and grabbing James’ other arm. “Right then, why are you two so slow? Let’s get going.”

Both James and Richard glared at him, but they got going. Once James was properly on his feet, the three of them ran for the door at the back of the dampervan, Richard and James sliding quickly through the tiny gap, then turning to drag the more awkward Jeremy through before collapsing against the door.

“That fly was looking to eat my man parts,” announced Jeremy dramatically.

“When? In those seconds while we were pulling you through?” asked Richard.

“Yes, when you were slowly squeezing yourselves through and I was bravely holding up the rear, I nearly gave my man parts to get Slow down off that shelf.”

James sighed. 

……………………………………………………………………………

Richard stared across the stern at the anchor, ignoring Jeremy’s continuing rants behind him.

“We still going down the anchor?” he asked James.

“Sadly, yes,” nodded James. “I don’t see any other way to go about it.”

“Not really been your day, has it?”

“I’m not going to add your dampervan to my list of favourite places to visit,” agreed James. “But once we’re down, it’ll be fine.”

“Do you think the oaf’s ever going to shut up?”

“I’m mostly thinking that the anchor’s going to be louder than him,” said James, grinning evilly.

Richard laughed, walking towards the anchor and away from Jeremy’s continuing complaints, which had now progressed to the others ignoring him.

The anchor was heavy, heavier than Richard had really considered if he was honest, though it shouldn’t have been a surprise. Pushing at the thing wasn’t getting them anywhere, even once they’d finally convinced Jeremy to help and all three of them had been going at it.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” he gasped to the others, after hanging off one of the pieces of chain and still failing to budge it at all.

“We need to get help,” said Jeremy.

“Errr, Jez, I don’t like to contradict you…”

“… I think he means he does,” put in James.

“… well, I do, yes, but…”

“Look,” interrupted Jeremy, pointing downwards to a smiley, blond toddler who had clearly wandered off from his parents and completely ignored the small, chain-link fence and now stood just below the anchor.

“He’s a baby!” protested Richard.

“He’s big enough to reach,” observed Jeremy. “And bigger than you.”

“And you!”

“Temporarily,” laughed Jeremy. “Hey! Kid!” he shouted.

The toddler stared up at them, “Cars,” he said - probably.

“Yes!” shouted Richard. “Lots of cars, on telly.”

“Vrrrrmmmm,” added the toddler.

“Yes!” agreed Richard. “Jez?”

“This,” said Jeremy, pointing to the chain. “Pull this.”

“Pull!” giggled the toddler, grabbing the chain with one chubby hand and Jeremy in the other.

“Arrrrggh, not me!” yelled Jeremy. “Put me down!”

Richard and James, still standing on the back of the boat next to the unravelling chain, both burst out laughing at Jeremy’s cries.

The chains of the anchor, clearly pulled to a critical balance point, abruptly gave way, and with a massive clatter fell the remainder of the way to the ground. James and Richard, distracted from Jeremy’s plight, turned to see a tall, blonde woman with a brightly coloured buggy marching towards them, and ran for the relative safety of the dampervan’s door.

“Can you see Jez?” whispered Richard, peering at the scene as the woman approached her toddler.

“Still in the kid’s hand, I think,” said James. “He’ll be all sticky!”

Richard winced.

“Archie!” the woman called, finally attracting the toddler’s attention. He immediately dropped both Jeremy and the chain, and ran to his Mother, happily babbling about cars.

“You shouldn’t run off like that!” she told him, having absolutely no effect on his huge grin or the babbling, then picked him up, crossed the low fence and unceremoniously dumped him into the colourful buggy.

“Jez?” called Richard, probably too quietly to actually be heard, but he didn’t want to attract attention to himself.

“There,” said James, pointing to their vans. There, perfectly placed in the back of his tipper truck, on his makeshift mattress, lay Jeremy.

“The lucky sod!” remarked Richard.

“Less complaining though,” pointed out James.

“True, though there’s still the heroics.”

“Hmph, getting tossed about by a 2 year old?” grumbled James. “I suppose we’d better get it over with anyway,” he gestured to the now dangling chain. “After you.”

“You’re so generous.”

“I just don’t want you to land on me when you inevitably fall off.”

“I won’t…” began Richard.

James raised an eyebrow at him. “I have enough worries about heights, I don’t need any new ones,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, OK, fair enough,” sighed Richard, heading over to the chain.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Lying on his – surprisingly well cushioned – truck in relief, Jeremy watched Richard and James struggle down the anchor chain, grateful to have missed out on that one, even if his approach had been a whole lot scarier. Richard, though probably a bit nervous and definitely a bit too small to comfortably reach between each chain link, was climbing down the chain quickly, clearly intent and unconcerned. James, despite his longer reach, was moving much more slowly.

As soon as he reached the bottom, Richard bounded over to him. “You OK, Jez?” he asked. “No longer resembling a kid’s rattle?”

Jeremy grinned. “A few brain cells loosened, but it got me down much faster – what’s taken you?”

Richard laughed. “What can I say, I thought my brain cells were more useful!”

“As if!”

Glancing back at James, who was still only halfway down the chain, Richard nudged his foot. “Shift up, plenty of space for me there.”

Jeremy looked at him sceptically, but moved obediently anyway. “How long do you think he’ll be?”

Richard yawned. “I think probably long enough for Andy to forget where he’s sent us.”

“If he even knew,” pointed out Jeremy. “Who knows what The Stig’s involvement was.”

Richard stared at him. “I hadn’t even thought of that.”

……………………………………………………………………………

“What have you been doing?” called Jeremy, as James finally reached the ground. “Hamster’s actually fallen asleep!”

James raised his eyebrows, but didn’t deign Jeremy’s comments with an answer.

“Time to explore,” added Jeremy, shaking Richard awake and climbing out of his truck.

“OK,” said Richard agreeably, climbing out of the truck after Jeremy and making his way to his van. “About time I had a proper go in this,” he added.

“Come on then,” sighed James, making his way wearily to his ambulance.

Jeremy was the first to get going, his engine roaring into action only moments after Richard had dismounted the back. His lights flicked on, and he roared away, the others quickly following.

The beginning of the drive, away from the dampervan, was very rough, over gravel that was bigger than the cars’ wheels, but once they reached the main path, the going was much smoother and Jeremy began to speed up, finally bouncing along at a good pace.

“This truck is fantastic,” he announced, imagining himself describing the truck to his viewers. “It’s handled mountainous rocks, and now it’s roaring along the main path at a massive 100,000cm per hour. The gears are crisp, and not nearly as complicated as a real truck, and the ride is…” He paused, apparently peering out of the window.

“I’ve found a race track!” He turned abruptly, not bothering to signal, causing Richard’s van to wobble alarmingly as it swerved to join in. James, naturally, was notably behind and not at all phased by the change of direction – he probably didn’t even notice.

“Hamster! There’s a race track!” Jeremy shouted out of his window.

“Not just any race track,” responded Richard, “this is the Top Gear race track! Look, there’s Hammerhead.”

“Wow,” said Jeremy, pulling his truck over for a moment and climbing out to admire the track. “I never thought I’d see this again.”

“Me neither,” agreed Richard, jumping down to join in. “Forget sleeping though, I’m wishing I’d brought a faster car.”

Jeremy grinned. “Race, then?”

“Yeah. Should we wait for James?”

“At the start or at the end?” asked Jeremy. “Or both? He doesn’t know his way round anyway.”

“Let’s just go for it,” said Richard. “Ready, steady…”

“Go!” yelled Jeremy.

The two vehicles sped off the line side by side, bouncing around the circuit with great enthusiasm. Jeremy’s more powerful truck quickly took the lead, several lengths clear by the time they reached Hammerhead, where Jeremy had to slow down considerably. Richard, too, had to apply the brakes for Hammerhead, though he gained a little, then they both hurtled towards the follow-through. Jeremy, launched through comfortably, then Richard, close on his tail with the tyre wall close on his right, found himself suddenly stationary and hanging from his seatbelt, as his van took a nose dive and stopped completely, its rear end pointed directly upwards.

For a moment, Jeremy carried on, celebrating his victory as his friend lost ground, then realised there might be a problem and turned round – keeping his eyes peeled just in case the little camper van came hurtling towards him.

It didn’t. Back at the follow through, Jeremy find something he could honestly say he’d never expected.

“Hamster?” he yelled. “Are you OK?” Climbing out of the truck, leaving the hazards on just in case James had actually caught them up – though he supposed it was more likely he’d appear from the wrong direction or across the grass than anything – Jeremy walked over to the stricken camper van, trying to figure out where his friend was, and how it had been tipped like that.

Then his foot disappeared into something squishy and sticky.

“Ugh! I’m being eaten alive by a giant snot monster!”

“Jez?” Richard’s voice sounded small and shaken.

“Yeah! Are you OK, Hamster?”

“I think so, but I’m a bit stuck.”

“Just a minute,” called back Jeremy, removing his foot from the squashy area, but failing to retrieve his boot. Fine, he could come back for that in a minute, he hobbled over to the window of the camper van, only realising at the last minute that it was the sliding door, rather than the passenger window he was looking through. He grabbed at the handle and slid the door aside, entering.

It was dark inside, but not so dark that he couldn’t see Richard. He remained in the driver’s seat, his legs completely hidden by the same squishy stuff that had stolen his boot, trapping his body in place. The whole of the front of the van was either partly gone or oozed into by the substance.

“What is it?” he whispered, catching Richard’s eyes.

“I think it’s a slug, or maybe bits of slug.”

Ah. Jeremy touched the substance, cautiously, feeling the warm, slimy, rippling surface and concluding that Richard could well be right.

“Can you pull me out, Jez? It’s crawling up me.”

Jeremy couldn’t resist, just for a minute. “I don’t know, it could be a moment for Captain Slow. It looks pretty disgusting, and you know I don’t deal well with invertebrates.”

“I think it’s more that they don’t deal well with you, you bastard,” responded Richard. “Get me out!”

“Fine,” sighed Jeremy, as though that wasn’t what he was going to do all along. Placing his remaining boot partially on top of the slug for leverage and grabbing Richard under the arms from behind, he began to pull.

Richard was genuinely stuck, for several minutes Jeremy’s muscles strained without discernible effect, then abruptly the slug rippled again and Richard came free with a satisfying popping noise, sending the two of them flying backwards onto Richard’s bed.

“Ooof,” complained Jeremy. “You’re heavy.”

“Sorry,” said Richard, elbowing Jeremy in the stomach as he scrambled to sit up, a movement that trapped him between the back of the driver’s seat, the bed and Jeremy.

“What are you two numpties doing?” asked a familiar voice. “And why is this vehicle balancing on its nose?”

“Ah, well…” began Richard.

“I’m rescuing him from a slug attack,” summarised Jeremy.

James raised an eyebrow. “Of course, why didn’t I think of that?”

“There was no sign warning of slugs in the road,” pointed out Richard.

“Yes, yet it takes a skilled crasher of cars to end up embedded in one,” observed James.

Jeremy grinned. “Yes, you’ll notice neither of us ended up part of the slug.”

“I suppose we’d better get him out now?” asked James.

“It’s probably a good idea, I don’t think there’s a miniature AA,” agreed Jeremy casually.

“Very generous,” nodded Richard, holding his hand out to James in the hope that he might pull him clear.

James gave him a tug, but it was as Jeremy decided to shift himself that Richard really sprang clear, sending all three of them sprawling on the floor outside the van again, far closer to the slug than they might have liked.

“So, if you use your tipper truck to tow the camper van clear?” suggested James.

“I have to do all the work,” muttered Jeremy, nonetheless heading over to his truck and manoeuvring it behind the van, as James lifted himself off the floor and headed over to his ambulance, emerging moments later with something like a tow rope.

…………………………………………………………………………………

Richard stepped away from the van, brushing himself down and checking for injuries. He was pretty sure he was OK, though his already wet trousers were now distinctly slimy and his shoes were apparently still stuck in the slug somewhere, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of slowly drowning as the slug had been slowly creeping up his body. That trapped feeling wasn’t easy to ignore.

He shook it off for the moment, turning instead to the spectacle that was Jeremy and James trying to attach a tow rope to the upended van, with James waving an extensive hook of some sort at the back of the van.

“Guys, wouldn’t it be easier to drop the rope through the van?” suggested Richard.

They exchanged a look, one that Richard was too tired to interpret.

“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” agreed James, surprise in his voice. “If you can manage that without falling into the slug again?”

“I think I can manage,” grimaced Richard, taking the proffered rope and re-entering the van, determined not to let his nerves get the better of him. Using the cupboards as a kind of ladder, he reached the rear door and opened it from the inside, tying the rope to the back of the vehicle and tossing the rest down to Jeremy.

“Thanks,” responded Jeremy, moving over to his truck.

“Better stand clear,” said James, quietly, grabbing Richard by the arm and physically reversing him across the race track, away from his van.

Jeremy’s truck drove away from the slug, tipping the van back onto its wheels surprisingly slowly as the slug slowly eased out of the front section. Then, finally, the van was free and they could actually see the damage.

Right across the front of the van there was a huge hole where the metal had been bent away from the floor in the accident, allowing the slug to get inside. Similarly, both front doors were quite bent and probably unusable, but the sliding door was fine, and all of the windows seemed OK. Plus, it was a toy camper van powered by something weird and it was supposed to be rear engined – so it still worked.

“Maybe a bit of gaffer tape to keep the draught out?” suggested Richard. “Though it’ll dry my trousers faster.”

They drove away from the track, off to something that was probably meant to be a model of the portacabin, and parked up to spend a night in their vehicles – finally.


	5. Messages from the Cool Wall

Getting up in the morning on any kind of special was always hard, when that night had been filled with the oaf snoring and Hamster yelling in his sleep, James was fairly certain he could have slept until mid-afternoon. Despite that, James rolled out of bed at around 9 and made his way to Richard’s camper van, shaking the younger man awake then making use of his cooking facilities to provide everyone with coffee.

By the time Jeremy had also been plied with coffee, Richard had forgiven James for waking them up, and Jeremy had formed a plan for their day – apparently they should have been searching for their mission.

James wondered if he was talking about looking for text messages or golden envelopes, it wasn’t like their phones had shrunk down with them.

Jeremy set off in the lead again, his truck bouncing along the side of the path at speed. He’d passed a number of interesting exhibits without really taking much interest – the British Leyland cars from that challenge, his ridiculous Fiat Panda limo and the three home-made ambulances – but as the Cool Wall came into view, he swerved suddenly and headed towards it, just as the first guests of the day began to arrive.

“Cool Wall,” he announced unnecessarily as he dismounted the truck and stared up at the display. “The perfect place to leave us a message.”

“Really?” asked James.

“Oooooh,” said Richard. “You think there’s a secret code, like which ones are in the wrong place?”

“Precisely,” nodded Jeremy. “Move the ones that are relevant to tell us where to go.”

“OK, so we need to remember where they were?” Richard looked up at his friend sceptically.

“Easy,” declared Jeremy, causing James to snort behind him.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” said James, laughing.

“What about this?” asked Richard, pointing to the card displaying a Toyota Corolla Verso. “I thought this one went on a trip across the studio?”

“Yes,” nodded Jeremy, “I gave it to some guy in the crowd. OK, make a note of that. What else?”

“You want me to remember more?” Richard raised his eyebrows. “OK, what about the BMW M6? Pretty sure we didn’t put that there, see – that’s the one I ate a bit of.” He pointed to the missing chunk of the card.

Jeremy chuckled. “Yes, I remember that! Hmm.. that Merc shouldn’t be in uncool, I know I put that in cool.”

Then it was Richard’s turn to laugh. “That’s not a message, I moved that in the show. Did you really never notice?”

“Ah – the Morgan, we never placed that!”

“Where did it end up?” asked Richard, looking up to scour the board as Jeremy pointed at the super uncool section.

“Bah!” grumbled Richard as Jeremy laughed again.

“I think you two morons are going about this all the wrong way,” called James from behind the wall.

“What do you mean? Why?” asked Richard, running beneath the wall to see what James was looking at.

“Look,” said James, pointing to the back of the Cool Wall. There, lined up, were the cards for the Fiat Barchetta and the BMW Z3, with a photo of the Mazda MX3 alongside them.

“Wow, Jezza, look. They want the three wise men!”

Jeremy joined them, staring up at the back of the board. “OK, three wise men then, I take it these cars are here somewhere?”

“Do you think it’ll be like that trip?” asked Richard.

“Where we’re not allowed through half the borders? I don’t think there are many borders in the museum, Hamster!” mocked James.

“I mean where we came from the East,” laughed Richard.

“We need a map,” said Jeremy.

………………………………………………………………………………

It didn’t take long to find a map, even with all the guests now wandering round the museum who they had to avoid. Jeremy had a bit of a near miss with a toddler’s rattle, and Richard narrowly dodged a fast moving child’s shoe, but there were maps everywhere so it wasn’t difficult to find one. Of course, it turned out to be right next to James and Richard’s ridiculous attempt at turning a Reliant Robin into a space shuttle, so whilst Jeremy was perfectly happy to stand and stare at the map, James and Richard were more interested in the shuttle.

Richard raced his little van over to the shuttle, and barely took the time to stop before he was out and gazing up at the Robin, with its ridiculous wings and upside down sticker, just poised there above him. By the time James pulled over, Richard was stood touching it, in the process of figuring out how he might climb up to look in the cockpit.

“There’s no point going in,” said James. “It’ll just be a Reliant, and you can do that when you’re big.”

Richard looked at him.

“I mean bigger,” laughed James.

Richard shoved his hands in his pockets. “I know really. It’s just seeing all this stuff! I miss Top Gear.”

“Yeah, me too,” grinned James. “We still get to cock about plenty though, and you’ve still got us to annoy you, and Andy.”

“Yeah, don’t I know it,” nodded Richard. “It’s stupid.”

“I think stupid was really the point,” suggested James.

“What’s stupid?” asked Jeremy. “Other than this thing.” He waved his arm up at the Robin.

“Top Gear, us,” shrugged James.

“Definitely us,” said Richard, the pitch of his voice changing as he began to back away from the shuttle. “Look!”

“Arse,” said James.

The base of the shuttle, which until now they hadn’t really looked at carefully, was absolutely covered in ants, hundreds and hundreds of them, all climbing over each other and going out to collect food, and crawling up people they shouldn’t.

“Can we get going?” asked Richard.

“I think that’s probably a good plan,” agreed James. “A rapid march to the vans, gentlemen?”

“Past that line of ants?” asked Richard.

“Yeah, they’ll just ignore you,” said James.

“When you’re full size they just ignore you,” pointed out Richard. “I’m a bit worried we’re food sized now.”

“He’s right,” added Jeremy. “Ants can lift ten times their own weight, Hamster definitely comes within that now, they’re about half his size.”

“I’m just imagining the obit,” said James. “Carried away by ants.” He shrugged. “Seems appropriate.”

“I’m not being carried away by ants,” objected Richard.

“That’s good, you tell them that,” nodded Jeremy, crossing the line of ants and leaping into his truck.

James, too, crossed the parade of ants and climbed into his ambulance happily, leaving Richard to stare at them as they drove off.

“Right, just got to get over this. The ants aren’t out to get me, I just need to walk on by and get to my van.”

Richard took a step forwards, accidentally mistiming it so that his arm brushed against the lead ant, causing him to jump back again.

“No, not like that.” He tried again, this time judging the gap better and scuttling over to his van, going through the sliding door then closing it behind him with a sigh.

Then his heart stopped.

There, sat in the van’s driver’s seat, was an ant. It clearly noticed his arrival, turning towards him and poking him with its front legs.

“Guys!” shrieked Richard. “Guys! Ant attack!”

He opened the door again, almost by touch, backing away from the intruder as he did so. The door slid open easily, and Richard’s feet quickly found themselves back on the ground ready to run, but now there were more ants at the door.

Grabbing at him.

“Jez! James!”

………………………………………………………………………………………

Jeremy drove away at pace, only then realising that he’d still not managed to work out where the three wise men were supposed to be. He slowed down, sticking his head out of the window and looking back to see if there was any sign of pursuit. Behind him, he could see James, but no sign of Richard.

“Where’s Hamster?” he called to James. “He having a panic attack or something?”

“Probably,” agreed James. “He was working up to it.”

Then Richard’s plea for help reached their ears and really put pay to any idea that he’d just followed them.

“Can we leave him?” asked Jeremy.

“Not really,” said James. “No one else is here.”

“I guess we’re on a rescue mission then?” sighed Jeremy.

“Again,” grumbled James, turning the steering wheel of his car and driving slowly back towards the ants nest.

“We’re never going to work out where we’re meant to go at this rate,” complained Jeremy. “You two are just constantly panicking and getting into trouble and needing my extra manly help to get you out again.”

James, who likely couldn’t even hear him, still took a moment to glare back at him. Jeremy had no idea how he did it, but James could always tell when he was saying something he shouldn’t.

There was no sign of Richard back where they’d parked the cars. Ants now swarmed over his camper van, but they’d clearly taken him somewhere else.

“Can he really not overpower a bunch of ants?” asked James.

“Ten times their own body weight,” Jeremy reminded him. “And there were a lot of ants.”

“Bloody hell,” said James. “We’ve got to go into the nest?”

“I don’t know,” replied Jeremy. “We can move faster than them, maybe we can catch them up?”

“Right, vans are faster then,” stated James, leaping back into his ambulance and driving it along the line of ants as quickly as Jeremy had ever seen him drive anything.

Jeremy chased him, his truck rumbling past the ambulance a few minutes later – he couldn’t stay behand Captain Slow, after all – and heading further down the line of ants, closer and closer to the nest. The line of ants marched on, much more slowly than Jeremy and James, carrying all sorts of potentially edible flotsam and jetsam.

No sign of Richard.

They carried on in silence.

They were almost at the nest when finally Jeremy spotted something. It didn’t even look that odd, he’d been expecting a bit of a fight, but instead a single insect carried Richard on its back, not even a sign of a struggle.

Pulling the truck to a stop, Jeremy jumped out, James joining him a moment later.

“Why is he not fighting? He fights everything!” commented Jeremy, unusually wary.

“He must have been knocked unconscious somehow,” said James. “That explains how they took him, I don’t think they were really a threat to him otherwise, or only in vast numbers.”

Jeremy snorted. “Sounds about right. He was panicking so much about the insects that he had some sort of accident, knocked himself out and then the insects could take him?”

James laughed. “Probably. Mock later, help now,” he pointed out, giving Jeremy a light shove in the right direction and marching to where Richard was being carried closer and closer to the nest’s entrance.

Pacing the ant carrying Richard, the two men reached out, grabbing him by the arms and hefting him onto Jeremy’s shoulder. The ant carrying him didn’t even seem to care, continuing on in the line without even pausing.

“Maybe it thinks Hamster’s heavy too?” suggested Jeremy.

“Seems reasonable,” said James. “You need a hand?”

“Are you suggesting I’m not as strong as an ant?” asked Jeremy.

James stared at him, weighing his options. “Definitely.”

“Ugghhhhh,” groaned Richard over Jeremy’s shoulder, beginning to move.

“That’s more like it,” said Jeremy. “It doesn’t seem right, a still Hamster. Though, I have to point out, much easier to carry. The ant was cheating.”

“Wuss,” grinned James. “You can’t manage and you’re making excuses? Think you can manage to get him back to his van?”

“Yes, but that means you’re going to have to get the ants out,” grinned Jeremy.

“Great,” muttered James, moving to walk ahead of Jeremy to approach the ants in the van. Oddly, it wasn’t as creepy as lots of ants swarming round something would seem, it was more like walking into a flock of sheep and trying to persuade them to move – when you know absolutely nothing about sheep.

He reached the van quickly, and taking a deep breath, stepped into the van, trying to ignore the sheer numbers of ants around him.

“Shoo! Shoo!” he yelled at them, flapping his arms at them initially, and then reaching into Richard’s cupboards and grabbing a couple of pans, getting in some good blows to the nearest ants as he tried to deter them.

They weren’t easily moved, unlike sheep, ants didn’t seem to care that much for their own personal welfare, but eventually James managed to shift them outside the van, and close the door. They were still milling round, but they weren’t inside the vehicle, so he decided that was good enough.

As Jeremy got close to the van, Richard began to wake up in earnest, wriggling on his shoulder enough that finally he gave up and slid him down, onto his feet, holding his shoulders to steady him.

“Hamster? You back?”

Richard blinked up at him for a moment, his eyes dark and confused as his brain tried to catch up with what had been going on, and didn’t really seem to get all the way there. “Why? What? You were carrying me?”

“Yes, despite all that pizza. You definitely owe me another million pounds for rescue services.”

“Rescuing?” Richard blinked at him again, still clearly not firing on all cylinders.

“You had some sort of disagreement with some ants,” Jeremy began to fill in.

“Ants?” Richard continued to frown, then his expression slowly changed into one of horror. “Giant ants!”

“Yes, big ants, because we’re shrunk.”

“I don’t like insects,” said Richard, unnecessarily. “Bigger is worse.”

“And yet you’re fond of dogs and horses?” pointed out Jeremy. “Obviously these ants are big enough to ride.”

“Ride?”

“Yes, maybe we won’t go into that right now,” said Jeremy quickly. “I’ll tell you later. Can you walk now?” Jeremy shifted to put one arm round Richard’s shoulders, holding him close to his side as he regained his balance.

“Yeah, I’m good,” said Richard, initially wriggling away from Jeremy a little bit, then spotting the continuing line of ants near them and shrinking back into his friend’s side, his arm curling round Jeremy’s waist, the knuckles turning completely white from their grip on his shirt.

Jeremy knew how he should react, how Richard and James would expect him to react. He should mock Richard, he should mess about and tease his friend about his ridiculous fear of insects, even giant dog-sized insects. He should mock him about needing help like that. But he didn’t want to. Sometimes, on these trips, they did stop to sympathise with James and his fear of heights. Sometimes if someone was really hurt, they did stop and take care of him.

And here, they were really, genuinely alone and surrounded by one of Richard’s greatest fears – no mean feat given how fearless he was when he was behind the wheel. 

Jeremy squeezed him. “Don’t worry, we’re doing this together. You can just come in my truck if you like?”

Richard stared at him, clearly astonished to the point of being speechless.

“Really! I can be nice! It’s giant insects!”

“Are you being nice, Jezza?” asked James. “I’m not surprised he’s in shock.”

“I can be nice! I’m frequently nice, just usually when no one’s looking.”

James snorted. “You heard it here.” He leaned down to take a look at Richard’s face. “You OK, Hamster?”

“I will be,” said Richard, determinedly.


	6. Three Wise Men

Away from the ants, Jeremy pulled to a dramatic halt in his truck, causing Richard and James after him to slam on their brakes in a three way near miss. Jeremy, apparently ignorant of his near miss, leapt down from the cab and shouted to the others. “I’m going to read the map!” The ‘now that we’ve stopped mucking about with space shuttles and ants nests’ was implied.

James and Richard waited, both of them enjoying a moment of calm in their own different ways, no conversation between them for the moment, and no sign of either of them getting out of their vans. Jeremy climbed onto the back of his truck, peering at the map carefully as he struggled to read the words at his current distance. It took time to decipher, he was glad his distance vision was reasonably good, but he did eventually spot the middle east special cars. They were miles away!

He clambered down and sauntered over to the others, having to prod James to wake him from a light doze. “It’s a long way, other side of this section of the museum,” he announced.

Richard nodded, quietly. James, however, had some suggestions.

“I think we’ll need to wait for the museum to close,” said James. “The chances of us getting right across this place without being spotted are tiny. We’re driving toy cars, the instant some toddler spots us and grabs us we could be in a whole world of trouble.”

“Not that we’re that good at avoiding trouble,” smiled Richard.

“Well, not when we haven’t seen it coming,” agreed James. “Or when we have,” he admitted. “I think this trouble might be more than we want to handle for entertainment value, we could end up absolutely anywhere, or we could get trodden on.”

“James is right,” nodded Jeremy, slightly unexpectedly. “It sounds ridiculous, but toddlers and feet are currently a bigger risk than the death road with no brakes.”

Richard shrugged. “OK, so we’ll wait a few hours.”

“Nap time!” declared Jeremy. “Let’s take a break and we’ll get going again in a few hours.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………

It wasn’t a few hours before James and Jeremy were awoken abruptly. James couldn’t have put his finger on it precisely, but something woke him, and it wasn’t any of the regular, passing noises of the families walking by outside. It was proper, horror-movie style, screaming. He didn’t know what was said, but he knew immediately that he needed to do something. He was out of bed before his brain had even thought about it.

By the time he’d opened the back door of the ambulance and stepped onto the hard ground, Jeremy was there looking at him, his eyes half dead with sleep, but his feet well aware of where they were going. James’ feet were the same, without any discussion, he followed Jeremy to Richard’s camper van and through the sliding door.

Richard was tangled in the sheets, moving about but not getting anywhere, his breath coming in frantic gasps, sweat pouring down his face.

“Hamster,” whispered Jeremy, walking round the bed and watching him for a moment, before bending down to lie down beside him, squeezing between Richard and the wall, despite his bulk. His arms turned Richard to partially lie on him, settling the smaller man partly on his chest then gently stroking his hair, whispering hushing noises into his ear without ever waking him up. At first, Richard seemed to fight harder, perhaps feeling trapped by the larger man, but Jeremy persisted, remaining relaxed, and slowly the frantic words and screams died down to occasional whimpering and the flailing and kicking became a series of small fidgets in Jeremy’s arms. 

James froze, completely uncertain how he could help in this situation. He didn’t feel that he should leave, but certainly he couldn’t join in with what Jeremy was doing. Silently, he slipped back to his ambulance, keeping his ears alert to the sounds from within the camper van. It remained quiet, Jeremy seemed to have calmed Richard down, but James was sure that he shouldn’t just go back to sleep alone. He grabbed his makeshift mattress and blanket, hoicking them over his shoulder and heading back to the camper van before settling them both on the floor, alongside his friends.

By the time he arrived back, Richard was completely calm, relaxed in Jeremy’s arms, apparently no longer fighting with the blankets or panicking about an ant attack. Jeremy lay with his eyes resting at half mast, half watching James as he settled himself on the other side of Richard, at least until James lay down and disappeared from view. Then, finally, Jeremy spoke.

“OK, James?” he asked, almost under his breath.

James nodded. “Yeah, you…. You did a great job there. How did you know that would work?”

Jeremy grinned. “I didn’t really, but it works on my kids when they’re having a nightmare.”

James smiled, “And he’s kid sized?”

“Pretty much,” laughed Jeremy, still remaining quiet. “I figure nightmares are the same no matter how old you are.”

“Yeah.” James closed his eyes, trying not to immediately think of falling.

Jeremy smiled again. “Night, James.”

“Night.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………

It was dusk when Richard woke up, blinking his eyes and looking for his watch to see if they were likely past closing time. His watch seemed to be stuck, still on his arm but unable to move, causing Richard to pull more determinedly, hard enough to dislodge himself. His arm came free abruptly, but he wasn’t fast enough to get a look at the time before he fell off the bed onto something squashy that immediately responded.

“Ooof,” winced James, suddenly fully awake.

“James?” asked Richard, puzzled.

Jeremy rolled over to peer down at the two of them, his arms reaching down to pull Richard off the winded James.

“Nice job, Hamster. Are you dead, Slow?”

“I’ll be fine,” wheezed James, sitting up and rubbing his hands in his hair.

“Why? What?” Richard looked down at James, confirming that he was still in his own van as he did, then at Jeremy’s arm, still slung casually across his waist. “Did I miss something?”

“Nightmare,” said James, simply.

“Whose?” asked Richard, though really he knew, he just didn’t want to admit it.

Jeremy looked at him as though he was even more stupid than he normally suggested. “Really?”

“My nightmare,” conceded Richard. “Well, thanks for the help,” he raised his eyebrows at his two mates.

“No problem,” grinned Jeremy. “Now just let us old men recover slowly instead of jumping all over us when you wake up, we missed out on some sleep you know.”

“Right, sorry,” said Richard, quizzically, choosing not to examine events too closely.

“Are you OK now?” asked James.

“Yeah,” said Richard, shuddering despite himself. “I’m fine.” The question prompted all sorts of images, largely unpleasant. A creeping, suffocating feeling that seemed to overwhelm him, and a disturbing sense of drowning. He shuddered again. But there was something else, a more peaceful ending that he didn’t think his subconscious had expected.

Maybe that was Jeremy and James? Maybe they really had interrupted the nightmare instead of taunting him with it later – Jeremy had promised.

“Thanks,” he repeated, reaching down to touch James’ shoulder, and then turning to squeeze Jeremy behind him, before stretching and getting to his feet, this time carefully stepping round James.

It was 6pm, easily time to head off towards the middle east cars. There should only be cleaning crew on the site now, and presumably they wouldn’t be working heavily in the open air exhibits. “We off?” he asked.

A few scant minutes later, though they were made infinitely longer by James’ insistence that he check for any debris on the ground before they left, they were on their way.

They drove without any lights, hoping to avoid attracting unwanted attention, though well aware that their visibility was limited. The path wound through a number of outdoor exhibits, then back through the Top Gear studio that they’d visited before. It was tempting to stop, there were loads of things that given time – and a slightly more typically sized body – Richard would have been keen to revisit. Happy memories of adventures they’d had with Top Gear.

In the Top Gear studio, where they’d been a bit worried about a repeat encounter with the cleaning lady, they instead met a beaver scout troop on their way out of the complex.

Small boys were pretty much their worst fear.

Suddenly, instead of driving peacefully through a quiet path with their eyes open for staff, they were confronted with thirty small boys, and a few girls, all close to the ground and ready to either grab them or tread on them.

“I’m going to go for power!” announced Jeremy, to no one’s surprise. “Straight through the middle.”

“Jez,” said Richard, “are you sure? That’s a lot of limbs to dodge!”

Naturally, Jeremy didn’t hear him, but James, who’d come up alongside did. “I think the ape’s on his own,” said Richard.

“Yes, we can just wait for them to leave,” said James.

“We’ll be forever!” complained Richard. “I’ve seen kids this age going places, they faff more than you do.”

“Thanks,” said James, dryly.

“Round the edge?” suggested Richard.

“Fine,” grumbled James. “If I end up being squashed I’m going to blame you though.”

“Yes!” grinned Richard, throwing the camper van into gear with an enthusiasm that had been missing since the ant attack, and launching himself round the edges of the mock studio. The kids were mostly quite distant from him, but occasionally one of them would look as though they were headed for him and he’d find himself swerving out of the way. It was exhilarating, behind him he could even hear James creatively cursing with a thrill tinging his words.

Then, in his rear view mirror, he spotted Jeremy, flying through the group of children in the hands of one of the smallest boys. He probably couldn’t really hear anything, but he fancied he could hear Jeremy screaming as though he was on a rollercoaster.

“Jez!”

“Wait!” yelled James. “See where he ends…”

Then James too was snatched.

“James!” Richard spun his van round, straining to get a look at who had grabbed James, when he too found himself flying through the air.

It was amazing, definitely a lot like a rollercoaster, only far less predictable, Richard loved it. He didn’t have to concentrate on driving, just flying. He stuck his hand out of the window to feel the air rushing by. Then, suddenly, he realised that it was the same child who had hold of his car and James’, and that his instinct appeared to be to smash them together.

“Arrrrrgghhh!” yelled Richard, moving out of the driver’s seat and burying himself under the pile of mattress and blanket in the back of his camper van. Seconds later, hopefully with James far away from his own windscreen, the two vehicles smashed together.

“Reuben!” an angry voice called out across the studio. “What have you got there?”

“Just two cars,” responded the boy, innocently, as Richard tried to catch his breath.

“Well I’ll be taking those until we get home,” said the woman, holding her hand out for them.

“They’re not mine, I just found them,” protested Reuben, very honestly.

“I’ve got one too,” added another voice alongside him, holding up Jeremy’s truck – apparently undamaged.

“In that case they’ve most likely been lost by a child who’s been round here today. I’m going to hand these in at the main entrance on the way out.” She waited for both boys to hand her the cars, then placed them in her pocket and moved away to the next crisis.

“James?” called Richard, crawling out of the back of the van, still feeling a bit shaky. “You OK?”

“Yeah,” he replied quickly. “Though I missed my mattress in that smash!” he added.

“Jez?”

“It turns out that power doesn’t work when all the children are gigantic,” said Jeremy tiredly.

“Really?” said James, sarcastically, before apparently realising that his strategy hadn’t gone all that well either.

“How far are we from the three wise men cars, Jez?” asked Richard. “Is the main entrance closer or further away?”

“Definitely further away,” said Jeremy. “Any tools for breaking out of this pocket, Slow?”

James disappeared back into the ambulance.

…………………………………………………………………………

Richard turned to his friends. “Ready? I’m going to cut the last thread now.”

“I’m ready,” said Jeremy.

“Ready,” sighed James.

“Now!” yelled Richard, cutting the thread and watching Jeremy immediately fall through in the truck, his seat belt done up tightly, towing the camper van and quickly followed by a significantly more reluctant James. Richard clung to the edge of the pocket, dangling, holding on until Jeremy and James had grabbed a mattress and were ready to try to catch him.

Sometimes Richard really hated his job.

His friends were in place, Richard tucked his legs in and closed his eyes then he let go.

It was another scary drop, though Richard thought he was starting to get used to it, he’d done that much falling in the last couple of days. Before he’d even had chance to review the last couple of days, he was bouncing off the mattress Jeremy and James were holding and rolling across the concrete path. A bit banged about, but still functional.

“OK, Hamster?” asked James, pulling him up from the ground then leaving him to dust himself off.

“Not bad,” said Richard, with a wince as he stepped on his right leg. “Give me a minute.”

Jeremy grinned. “How many lives have you got left now?”

Richard held up two fingers very pointedly as he headed for his van.

………………………………………………………………………………

It was dark by the time they got back on the road, but there were a lot less people around, so they agreed to turn their lights on this time – and to hide if they saw any more groups of children. Jeremy took the lead again, racing his way along the paths he’d memorised, past his limo made from a Panda, James’ old Princess, the car they’d made for old people and the sports train.

And past a load more bugs. Jeremy repeatedly found himself flinching away as his headlights picked out a beetle scurrying across his path, not to mention moths going for the headlights and spiders dangling down in front of him. They were all still out there, lying in wait, he just needed to sneak past them all. And, probably, keep Richard from noticing them.

They were close, just rounding the last corner past the British Leyland cars when he finally spotted the middle east special convertibles, all parked together in a line, and heaved a sigh of relief.

“We’re there!” he yelled.

And nothing. No response, no lights, nothing.

Jeremy stopped and looked back, he heartrate increasing. Where were they now? He waited, hoping that maybe they’d just been slow. He turned the truck, conceding that he might have to go back, when the others appeared round the corner, their vehicles entirely covered in spider’s web.

“What happened to you?” he asked, incredulously.

“Apparently ambulances look quite appetising to large spiders,” said James.

“The camper van came to the rescue,” added Richard, beaming all over his face. “I rescued James from a spider.”

“I wasn’t in any actual danger,” pointed out James. “Spiders can’t really eat toy cars.”

“They can get through holes,” insisted Richard, still grinning. “Besides, I think this is my first victory.” He turned behind them into the darkness, and yelled, “Loser! Loser!”

Jeremy giggled. “Does this mean you’re cured and we don’t have to be nice about the insect thing anymore?”

Richard grinned. “Probably.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and took a couple of swaggering steps towards the convertible Fiat.

Then a moth chose that moment to fly towards the camper van’s lights, and Richard shrieked and waved his arms above his head.

“Maybe not,” said James.

Jeremy snorted.

Richard coughed. “Sorry, old habit.”

“So do we think this is the pickup point?” asked Jeremy, “Based on the message on the Cool Wall. It’s a sign that they’ll find us here?”

“That’s the theory,” shrugged James.

“In that case,” said Jeremy. “I think we should all resume our brilliantly comfortable places in the back of the camper van, and wait until someone makes us big enough to walk through this place without getting attacked by anything.”

“You’ve gone off the back of the tipper truck?” asked James.

“I’m being supportive,” insisted Jeremy.

“And we’re covered in spider’s web?” asked Richard.

“It’s possible that I have no desire to repeat our kidnapping by spider experience,” acknowledged Jeremy. “We didn’t bring the Batmobile this time.”

Richard grinned, walking over to the camper van and opening the back door, leaving the door open behind him for the others.

…………………………………………………………………………………

“Thanks, Stig,” said Andy, patting the tall, white-clad being on the shoulder and earning himself a bemused glance. “I’ve heard they’ve reached the rendezvous point, if you’re happy to head back in?”

The Stig nodded once, bending down to grab hold of his rucksack then heading out of Andy’s office.

Andy turned to the other man in the room. “How’s the footage? Is it all in yet?”

“It’s going to take some editing, but it looks great, they got into some real scrapes – especially Hammond. The cameras worked brilliantly, no problems there.”

Andy smiled. “Very good to hear,” he said. “Is the next location all set up?”

“Working on it as we speak, probably good to go in a few days. I don’t think we’ll be ready before Stig gets there though.”

“That’s fine, they’ve got a few days off in one of our exclusive Lego hotels, all expenses paid.”


End file.
